Letters Through Time
by Demonic Charm
Summary: Two lonely people have no more in their lives than a cat and their careers. Yet when the lake house calls to them, they each find an unexpected letter from the other. A blooming romance forms by words. The only thing that is separating them is time. One is from 2006, and the other from 2004. Can love last under the frail time? [Based upon The Lake House script] [USUK] [Human AU]
1. Chapter 1

**"_We live at home; quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us."_**

Lake Michigan was glistening underneath the rising sun. Colours broke through the grey winter clouds and reflected from the water, casting off the most breath-taking of sights. Small waves lapped against the shore where a most striking house stood upon stilts right above the surface so it appeared to float. Though its design was highly modernised, it blended in flawlessly to its surroundings. The trees of the forest barely touched upon it but stood around as if protecting it from the harsh reality that was only a few miles away.

Their branches hung over the lake's edge, dropping their golden leaves to rest upon the surface. The wind gently picked up the leaves and blew so the blend of colours brushed across the glassy walls of the house.

A man stood in the centre of the house, peering through its walls at the scenery around him. He was perfectly still, barely even blinking, as he became lost within his thoughts. This place was a small place of paradise… and now he was leaving it. He had barely been at the lake house for a few months and yet… it felt like home.

Something fluffy brushed against his leg, causing him to snap back to the present and smile sadly at the large cat entangling around him. He knelt down and stroked the top of its head. "All right, I'm coming…" he whispered.

The large cat purred in delight and watched its master pick up the remaining bag. "Come alone, Al. I wouldn't want to leave you behind."

Arthur walked over to the door and was halfway down the jetty when he realised Al wasn't with him. He turned around and sighed. "Al, I won't tell you again. Look, I'll stop by a shop before hitting the motorway and get you a fish. Deal?"

Al rested upon its paws. Its eyes were large and almost pleading with him no to go. But with the promise of food, the Maine Coon struggled up and followed after. Arthur smiled weakly. It was one of the things he loved about Al – the cat was highly expressive and easy to read. He did prefer dogs, having grown up with them as a child, but he couldn't bear to leave Al alone when he arrived in his care so kept him.

They walked along the jetty, Arthur moving beside the painted paw-prints from habit. He opened the car door and waited as Al wiggled his rear end before pouncing up onto the car-seat. The cat leapt onto the passenger side before Arthur sat down on it.

In the car, the cat placed its paws on the window like a dog and peered out. Arthur took a deep breath and the car groaned to life. It barely moved a metre when Arthur slammed on the brakes. Al instantly flopped off the seat and landed upon its back in the leg room.

"Sorry," Arthur muttered. He snatched up the envelope he rested on the dashboard earlier and left the car to rush over to the mailbox. Good thing he placed it in his car when he did or he would have forgotten all about it. He placed the letter inside and raised the flag up. Giving the house one last look, he got back into his car and drove off onto the main road.

* * *

"You couldn't have waited five minutes, could you? Just five minutes! I knew I shouldn't have gotten you that fish. Don't give me those eyes! I didn't fall for them then and I won't now! I hope you're happy. Now I'll have to take train to work until the smell of cat sick has faded!"

Al's ears drooped with his tail. Arthur took no notice and slammed the car door closed. He had spent several hours on the road and wanted nothing more than to move in the last of his stuff and collapse upon the bed until morning. The car ride was no pleasant. Sure, he was use to Al being restless and rolling around in the back seat but it was the change that slapped him hard in the face. The nature had fallen behind and the Chicago skyline descended upon him soon after.

He didn't like it. The crowds, the traffic, the noise – all were creeping up on him and made him cringe so it was with great relief that he finally arrived outside the flats – or apartments as he was frequently told by the Americans.

Gazing up at the cold empty block with its many windows, he had never felt so distant. Back in England, the buildings were old and had great character but, in America, they were new and held no soul to them. It was very different here. There wasn't even a sign of nature for him to compare to the lake house scenery. At least back at the lake he could pretend he was in England and feel at ease with the world.

His mood crushed, he began to unload the last of his belongings.

* * *

The exhaustion from moving to a different place and the extra hours he spent cleaning to distract caused Arthur slept heavily during the night. When morning came, he was supporting a headache. The busy streets and station of the city didn't help. And neither did the cramp conditions in the hospital.

Arthur took a deep breath when he finally step – shoved – out of the lift. It was like playing a game of sardines without any enjoyment. He stood to the side, letting people walk past. Arthur had no idea where to go. It was difficult to see the signs through the crowds and he wasn't exactly tall – not compared to the people surrounding him. The best course of action would be to follow the big crowd, he decided. Fortunately for him, the crowd walked pass the reception desk.

He was surprised. Though it was heavily crowded, the staff members seem to be able to juggle their numerous tasks without missing a beat. He had never seen such order performed in or out of a hospital before. Anything thing, Arthur noticed, was how impossibly clean it was. There was no rubbish and not even a smudge on the walls. It was almost intimidating but a highly welcoming sight.

He stood back, waiting for the best chance to interrupt. He walked up gradually and coughed to get attention. Nothing. He coughed again. Still nothing. "Err…. Excuse me?"

The attendant didn't even look up from the computer. She reached out to her side and picked up a clipboard. "Fill this out and wait over there."

"Sorry, there must be a mistake here. I'm Doctor Kirkland – the new resident. They told me to report here."

Now he had her attention. She dropped the clipboard back on the desk and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Doctor. You need to find Dr Beilschmidt. He should be around here somewhere. You can't miss him. He's tall, muscular, and don't ever put a toe out of line around him."

* * *

Arthur soon discovered the root cause of the why the hospital ran the way it did. The one in charge, whose name he later discovered to be Ludwig, was someone who firmly believed in cleanliness and firm order. The moment they met, Ludwig had practically barked at him for being seven minutes late and gave him only a minute to change into his uniform.

So, with the less than warm greeting, Arthur's mood was slipping further and he was trying his best to disgust his scowling by reminding himself that he'll soon have a lunch break and can escape then. Until then, he had to memorise his timetable that Ludwig was currently speaking to him as they hurried down the corridor together.

"You're covering 22 patients on rounds today, this floor and the next," Ludwig explained as he passed over the stack of folders to the Briton. "If you get into trouble you can beep me, but don't make a habit of it! The med students are supposed to help you out with scout work. If you can find one. Lousy Italians brothers are probably sleeping somewhere again…."

22 patients? Arthur's head was spinning as he tried to shift the folders around in his arms so they didn't fall all over the floor. He barely caught them in time before bumping into Ludwig. Huffing in annoyance at the sudden halt, he side-stepped to see what the matter was.

"What's he doing here?" Ludwig asked, alerting a nearby nurse to a patient who was lying in bed in the side of the corridor. "I ordered an immediate MRI!"

"Transport said about four hours?"

Ludwig sighed in frustration and held his hand to his head as if trying to collect the remaining pieces of his non-existent patience – or so Arthur thought. The Briton smirked faintly as he pictured a ticking time-bomb ready to explode on the –

"Doctor Kirkland, push him down to MRI. That's a left, another left, a right, elevator to two, follow the signs. Then hustle back here for rounds!"

The doctor took the files off Arthur and left before questions could be asked.

"Bloody hell…" Arthur muttered under his breath, peering down at the elderly gentleman who was dozing off. "A left and a left and…. I'm going to be in deep shit and it's only been day one." He held onto the handles and steered the bed down along the busy hallway. Remembering his professional manners, he forced a weak smile. "How are you feeling today, sir?"

The elderly man opened his eyes and gazed over to the doctor. "Am I going to make it?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Err….. Yes. Certainly."

* * *

Within an hour, Arthur was hopelessly lost. He had the charts in his hands and he knew where he was meant to be – but getting there was proving tougher than he thought. The previous hospital he worked out was much smaller than this one and didn't have the needless twists and turns this one held. And Arthur was far too reserved in his nature to approach a stranger and ask for directions.

He tried doubling back on his steps, reading all the room names, and swearing. It was as if the room had vanished from the face of this earth just to mock him. Bloody bastard. Whoever was causing all this, he'll find them and –

"Wrong floor."

Arthur jumped and turned around. Standing in the doorway behind him was a smaller male with thick black hair. Acknowledging the fright he caused, the smaller man held his hands together and bowed his head. "I apologise for my sudden interruption. Please, allow me to help you. I am Honda Kiku."

"Oh…. Hi… I'm Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland…" Arthur said blandly, holding out his hand to shake Kiku's but Kiku didn't seem aware of it – or didn't wish to make contact. Arthur closed his fingers against his palm and withdrew his hand. "Nice to meet you, Honda?" Was everyone in this hospital of different nationalities? Kiku looked Asian but Arthur couldn't pinpoint which Eastern country.

Kiku smiled. "It takes a while to get your bearings. I will show you the way if you wish."

"Sure…." Arthur returned the smile weakly. "I'll appreciate it."

* * *

It was probably the toughest day he had ever worked in his life. While Kiku was pleasant enough, he was even more reserved than what Arthur was and neither of the two attempted to make much conversation during their lunch break. Arthur decided it was best to avoid Ludwig when he could since the next time he saw him, the German was yelling himself hoarse at a couple of med students who turned out to have caused a scene in the morgue.

He didn't see any of them again until the end of his shift. All were in the locker room, hanging up their uniforms and discussing their plans for the night. Arthur tried to keep as quiet as he could but one of the med students from earlier spotted him trying to sneak pass.

"Hey! It's the new guy!"

The student almost appeared to float over to Arthur with a huge ridiculous smile on his face. "Why don't you join us, si? We can celebrate! We have fine Italian wine!"

"Err… thank you but no," Arthur said as politely as he backed away. "I'm very tired and…. I need to finish unpacking…" His excuses were feeble but it was enough to have the two doctors acknowledge his words and Ludwig pulled the clingy Italian back.

"How was your first night?" Kiku asked in a calm voice.

"I'll… adjust," Arthur replied, deciding it was best to keep his thoughts in his mind where they belonged. He didn't want to get such a bad reputation so early on into his career. "It's difficult moving from a small community hospital to something this size."

Ludwig clamped a hand onto Arthur's shoulder. "I just want you to know that we appreciate your work today," he said solemnly. "I have enjoyed having you here and will look forward to what you have to offer."

Maybe Doctor Beilschmidt wasn't as bad as first thought? Arthur just nodded. "I best head off now. I need to feed the cat…"

"Chao! Next time then!"

* * *

Arthur had barely opened the door to his flat when something leapt upon him in the dark. He yelped and fell back against the wall. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was a crook but the rough tongue on his cheek confirmed it wasn't. "Al! I told you a hundred – never mind…." He picked up the Maine Coon and held it up in his arms. "I told you about that. One day, I'll crack my head open and die. Who will feed you then? Huh?"

Al didn't seem to mind the thought. When Arthur placed him down, the cat ran around like a little pup – only to run head long into one of the many boxes Arthur still had lying around. Arthur shook his head and tried on the switch beside him.

Lights flickered, briefing displaying the dull emptiness of the small flat. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Need light bulbs…" he said aloud with only the cat acknowledging him. Al purred and lingered by the kitchen doorway. "Hungry? Honestly… I spoil you. You know that and take advantage… Little shit."

Al only darted around excitedly, dashing straight to the counter when Arthur finally dropped off his bag and walked over.

The kitchen only had the essentials. A small car could only take so much. So when he opened the cupboard, he wasn't surprised to see it was almost bare. He almost slammed it close and upon the tin of cat food he found inside. He opened it and tipped the entire contents into the bowl – much to Al's delight.

"Need cat food…" he yawned, dropping the tin into the bin. "Need bin bags…" He looked through the other cupboards. "… Need human food." Wonderful. He'll have to make a list and find some time during his busy schedule to fit in shopping and repairs.

* * *

Arthur was dead on his feet when he finally stepped into his bedroom. Despite his attempts to make it look personal and warm, the bland wall and tiny window made it feel more like prison cell. His foot pressed against the wooden floorboard that creaked out loudly.

"Fix loose floorboard…" he said in a worn out voice. He reached out to close the curtains but took the chance to look out at the sights he had neglected to see before. Laid out before him were the solid walls of other buildings with similar designs. He leant down and tilted his head up but couldn't even see much of the sky.

Completely defeated, he closed the curtains and curled up in bed.


	2. Chapter 2

"_**Time will explain."**_

Untouched snow piled up high over the fallen leaves. The roads proved treacherous for those who were unfamiliar with the forest road. Potholes were filled with ice. Fortunately, there was barely any activity around because no one wished to brave the cold and step out for their usual walks – even the dogs were reluctant to allow their masters to pull them outside. Instead, all remained inside their snug warm homes with the heating turned up.

Except for one.

A pick-truck pulled over into the forest road. It was dented in one side and had the American flag crudely painted around it with pieces flaking off including three state stars. Strapped onto the back, barely avoiding being carpeted with the snow because of the mobility, were several boxes and an armchair.

Singing in the front to the country music station was a local. His forever cheerful appearance didn't stop simply because there was no one around.

"I FELL INTO A BURNING RING OF – HOLY SHIT, HELLO BABY!"

Alfred rolled down his window and leant out a bit to catch sight of the lake that came into view on his side. It was just as beautiful as he remembered! What a sight to behold – truly. Alfred couldn't help but honk his horn and whistle excitedly.

Though the branches were stripped of life and the water was a murky brown, there was something that just screamed out perfect. The ice crept towards the lake in attempt to claim it but its frosty touch barely scraped the edges. Alfred couldn't help but imagine how freezing cold it must but the daunting look was seen as a challenge to him.

As if to blend in with the appearance, the pick-up truck pulled up to a lake house which… looked for a moment like it was haunted. Alfred chuckled weakly, reminding himself that ghosts never appeared during the day time.

"Hello baby, did you miss me?" he asked with a broad grin when he jumped down out of the vehicle. "Time hasn't been nice to you has it?"

The wooden pillars were cracked and he could tell the insects had sneaked into it. Mud was streaked across the floorboards from wild animals. Cobwebs hung from every corner, even between the bars in the jetty. It, like the truck, was in need for a fresh coat of paint or two. But it raised hope in Alfred's heart and he removed the armchair and easily slung it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he descended down the jetty and into the lake house – ignoring the mail box with its flag held upright.

* * *

It didn't take long for Alfred to set up the basics. All he needed was an oven, fridge, TV, game console, and armchair. He stood back to admire his progress. On top of that, it had taken some time for him to clear away the dust and cobwebs. Alfred always found the easiest methods when doing house chores and, with his unlimited amount of energy, could do it in a heartbeat if he put his mind to it.

He removed his glasses and rubbed the lenses clean with his shirt. Finally, for the first time in many years, he felt like he was home – back where he belonged. After all, who didn't like to get away from the noise of an over-crowded population? He could play his music full blast without any neighbours banging on the walls. Heck, he could walk around naked if he wished! Well… he chuckled as he peered out of the glass walls… maybe not completely naked. He didn't wish to scare away anyone who would be walking by the lake.

With a sigh on content, he pushed the glasses back on to his face and then fell back onto his slightly damp chair. Instead of picking up the controller for his play-station, he gazed out to the lake instead.

The plague couldn't make him leave.

But, he thought as his stomach grumbled, food could.

* * *

Shifting the paper bags underneath his arm, Alfred locked up his truck and headed inside. He paused before reaching the jetty however when he realised the little red flag on the mailbox was held upright. Intrigued, the blond walked over and took out the letter inside. The first thing he noticed was the small delicate handwriting on the front addressed to 'new tenant'.

Confused at this, he carried his groceries into the kitchen. He didn't bother to place anything away and left the bag on the counter – only taking the time to remove the ice cream tub and find the biggest spoon he had. Most would think it was crazy to eat ice cream in winter but Alfred loved the sweet dessert too much to care.

"Mmmm~" he hummed in delight, taking a good chuck of the ice cream into his mouth. "Man, that's good! Ben and Jerry, I could marry you!"

Now content, he sat down by the chair he had positioned so he could stare out at the moonlit lake. With the ice cream in one hand, he awkwardly opened the envelope then flattened out the letter on his thigh to read.

This handwriting wasn't just neat, it was posh. Someone must have practised calligraphy. Alfred chuckled.

'_Dear New Tenant. _

_Greeting and welcome to your new home and congratulations, etcetera. It's a wonderful place, as you already know, and I'm sure you'll love living here as much as I did. I'm the previous tenant by the way_.'

Alfred scoffed and wiped away some of the ice cream the fell onto the paper.

'_The post office is forwarding my mail but I wondered if you could send anything that might slip through. You know what those posties can be like! My new address is below. Thank you in advance. P.S._'

He flipped the paper over.

'_Sorry about the paw prints by the front door. They were there when I moved in. Same with the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner_.'

Now at a complete lost at what the writer was referring to, Alfred stood up and carried the letter and his ice cream to the front door. His spoon remained in his mouth so he had to use his hips to nudge the door open.

Though dark out, the light from the house stretched far enough to shine over the jetty. He shifted his feet along the snow to reveal the wooden planks. They were weather-beaten but they showed no trace of paw-prints. Funny. Maybe this person was confused and meant somewhere else? Maybe he should check the attic though he never felt comfortable in there. Too many things happened in the attic during horror films.

Keeping his ice cream close like a shield, he nervously went into the hallway and pulled down the ladder. He could hear the wind howling from above and shivered. It was just a mistake… he told himself with a whimper, just a mistake. He'll look and there'll be nothing in there at all. Not a single thing. And not a single person – dead or alive either! Alfred switched on the light to comfort himself.

The ladder creaked beneath his weight as he slowly descended up. He peered through the gloom at … nothing. No person, no trap, and definitely no box.

After his minor scare, Alfred was not in the best of moods when he closed it up and went back to his chair. Someone must have heard he was coming here and decided to give him a fright. What an asshole, he thought as he crumbled up the letter and tossed it across the room – landing perfectly in the bin.

"Bull's eye!"

* * *

Alfred didn't give the strange letter another thought. It helped that he was early to work the next day and was too busy trying to understand what was causing them to be so behind. It was frustrating and Alfred came close to tearing his hair out. Unfortunately, one of the managers on the scene was far from helpful – especially when he brought his daughter along with him.

He could almost sense her watching each and every worker going by with a hawk like gaze. It made him shiver. The American tried to keep out of side by hiding near the foundations of the future condos. A few half-finished frame skeletons were up and helped to cover him too. Sadly, he had to walk by the office trailer to consult over the plans and knew he was caught when he heard a feminine cry.

"Alfred!"

He groaned and turned around. Thankfully, he was on top of a slope made muddy by the snow melting over it – she would never go near dirt if she could help it. He personally thought she was a bit of a snob – not his kind of girl at all. In fact, he didn't have any interest in girls. Sadly for him, he was the youngest and fittest male on the construction site, and that was enough for her to cling to him at every chance she got.

An elegantly dressed woman (how could she be comfortable walking around in something like that, Alfred wondered) with her brunette hair tied back into a French knot hurried along the path so she was level with him. "I made my famous apple tarte tatin! The trailer's nice and toasty."

Oh man, that sounded good, he groaned mentally. "I can't! Busy! Sorry Fran…" Damn, he always struggled to pronounce her name correctly. Thankfully, or maybe not, she saw it more of an adorable pet-name. French people were so weird.

Françoise pouted, somehow without smudging her lipstick. "It's really cold out here. Don't get sick on me or anything, oui?"

"Wee wee," Alfred laughed, giving her a broad grin. "I never get sick!" He walked off but heard her heeled shoes thudding against the path as she hurried on after him. Alfred could see the French woman jogging along at the bottom of the slope – hitching up her skirts so they didn't get dirty.

"So I heard you brought a house, and apparently I'm the last one to know."

There was a reason for that, he thought with a sigh. "I thought I mentioned that," Alfred lied as he altered his path so he walked away from the slope. Maybe this was one of the reasons why they were falling behind schedule. Would it be worth talking with the manager about keeping her off the site where she only attempted to take up his time whilst distracting the rest of the men? He mentioned it before but they all thought he was nuts for not going for her.

"Wait!" Françoise pulled up her skirts further, ignoring the wolf-whistles from the other workers, and attempted to climb up the dirt mounds to reach him. "Where?"

"Outside of town. Up the shore a little bit," Alfred called over his shoulder. Oh God, now he could hear the laughing of nearby workers.

"Up the shore?" Françoise tried to quicken her pace but her heeled designer shoes almost caused her to slip. She squealed and regained her balance. "There's no houses – Zut alors! You don't mean that thing with the stilts and the –" With another squeal, her heel sank into the dirt and she stumbled down on to her knees.

Alfred paused briefly in his escape. "You all right?"

Complaining in her native tongue about the state of her outfit, she stood up and tugged her now ruined shoes out of the mud. "Oui, oui," she huffed once recovered. "Are you crazy, mon chou? Why would you take that house? It's made of glass! No privacy."

"Fran?" Alfred grinned again, seeing her defeat. "Get yourself some boots." With a playful wink, he walked off from sight – leaving her standing halfway up the slope.

* * *

After much hunting around, Alfred managed to find the construction foreman. He held out the plans he collected and was attempting to confer with him about speeding up the process but quickly discovered that it wasn't going to be as easy as he hoped.

"I'd like to get the foundation for number 17 dug together."

Mulhern, the foreman, did nothing to hide the expression of contempt. "Look kid, I know you're kind new here but I can't get to that at least till next week." He waved Alfred off and quickened his pace.

Alfred frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. What a joke. He expected this kind of crap from – well, it didn't matter who it came from! It still pissed him off! So he was half the age of most workers here, it didn't mean he didn't have the fucking knowledge he worked hard for!

He jogged up to the foreman and smiled innocently as if nothing was wrong. "Come on, Mr Mulhern. There's bullshit and you know it. Take Clemens and Rodriguez off roofing, Jorge can run the backhoe they're not using on fourteen, and grab four or five of the other guys sitting on their asses on seven and ten - Paulie, Frank, Carlos, Danny, and what's his name, the tall kid, Rafael."

Mulhern blinked. The contempt washed away into a thoughtful expression as the Mulhern gazed around at the sights. After giving Alfred's idea some thought, he reluctantly nodded. "Right. Get to it then!"

Beaming with pride, Alfred dashed off to tell the men the new plan.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky by the time the construction site became clear of workers. Alfred lingered back like he usually did – keen to proof his dedication to the job. In today's world, he had to do all he could to stand out or risk struggling to ever get another job again. It sucked.

He hauled away the trash into the skip and stretched out his arms whilst yawning heavily. Maybe he'll find a take-away on his way home and eat that instead of his planned dinner. A Chinese take-out sounded good – noodles with the fortune cookies. Maybe some duck too.

His stomach grumbled and he whined. "Just a little more," Alfred told himself as he knelt down to pick up the rest of the rubbish yet stopped when he saw he was staring at half-full cans of paint. Hmmmm…. It would be a shame to waste these, he thought.

* * *

The moment he got home, Alfred laid out a sheet over the jetty's wooden boards and got to work. It was fun to paint even though half of it ended up over himself – how he had no idea. Luckily, the paint matched the lake house which was a bonus – almost like it was meant to be!

Whistling merrily, he finished off the bars and then peered down at the weather-beaten boards. It was a good start. Now he just had to wait for it to dry and maybe give it one more coating before moving on to the boards. Funny, though he liked it here, Alfred was finding himself getting desperate for activities to do – anything to keep him active.

He knelt beside the tray and began to gather up the tools – unaware of the large Maine Coon that was creeping towards him without a concern.

Alfred just caught sight of the cat in the corner of his eye then realised what had happened. The damn creature had walked, purposely he swore, into the tray and was leaving a trail of painted footprints right down the jetty.

"Hey!" he yelled, giving chase only for the cat to bolt away again. Alfred chased it until the animal vanished into forest. Frowning, Alfred went back to see the damage down only to halt suddenly. He stared at the freshly printed paw prints. What the….?

Freaked out, he dashed inside the house and skidded by the bin. He dropped to his knees and turned the bin upside down, watching the rubbish fall across the floor. Dropping the container, the American quickly scrambled around trying to find what he was looking for.

Finally, his hand found Arthur's letter. He picked it up, smoothed it out, and read out loud, "Sorry about the paw prints by the front door. They were there when I moved in."

How… How was that…?

His heart racing several miles per hour, Alfred clumsy pulled himself up and scanned the drawers until he found a pad and pen. Frantically, he wrote down his reply. Something strange was happening here and he was going to get answers!


	3. Chapter 3

"_**He would look for her- he would find her out long before the evening was over- and at present, perhaps, it was as to be asunder. She was in need of a little interval for recollection."**_

Time had passed slowly since Arthur moved out of the lake house. Though he adjusted to the smaller and plain setting that was his new home, and to the incredibly long shifts at the hospital, he felt as isolated and alone as when he first arrived to the States. Al soon provided to be his only companion.

So it was no surprise that when Arthur headed out for lunch, he went alone. He was pleased to get away for the constant display of paper hearts and cheesy love songs were driving him crazy. Valentines wasn't his kind of holiday. It never was for those who were single. It didn't seem far to have the reminder that there was no one out there who….

Arthur sighed and unbuttoned his white coat when he stepped outside. It was surprisingly warm for a February. Yet another thing that Arthur didn't like. He couldn't cope with hot temperatures though this was far better than the sticky sweaty heat they had back in England, and the buildings had air conditioning here which made the heat tolerable somewhat.

To treat himself, he decided to head over to the Grant Park. It had a lovely view there and, best of all, he could see part of the lake. It didn't take too long. Americans must love the heat for the park was crowded when he arrived. Fortunately, he was able to get a bench to himself that showed the light gleaming off the lake.

Children were laughing, yelling, and generally playing around together. Was it meant to be a school day? He didn't know. He had lost track of the days of the week. Heck, he wouldn't have even known it was Valentine's day if it wasn't for those terribly decorations in every corridor.

He took out a sandwich from his lunch box and hungrily bit into it. Beef was his favourite and it was nice to eat without a cat trying to get at his food. While he ate, he found himself listening in on the conversation of the two elderly men sitting on the bench next to him.

"What's with the damn weather? 60 degrees on Valentine's Day?" One grumbled, still wearing a thin jumper despite his complaining. Arthur couldn't help but smile faintly. Good to know people whined around the weather regardless of where they came from.

"It's global warming," his friend said with a shrug. "Heating up the planet. Thank god I won't be able to see it die."

It was certainly warmer this year than it was previous, Arthur found himself thinking. He shook his head quickly. The last thing he wanted was to be lingering on long past memories. It wouldn't help. In attempt to cheer himself up, he finished off his lunch and then went for a walk around the park. He had some time before he would have to rush back to the hospital for the rest of his shift.

Buckingham fountain wasn't too far off. It was sending up huge plumes of water. He wandered over and stood close to it – loving the feeling of the water sprinkling against him. It was refreshing and he actually felt some of the stress leave.

Until a sudden horrible sound like a high pitch grinding squeal made him turn around in alarm – just in time to see an equally horrid sight.

It played out in slow motion but was over in a blink of an eye. A few hundred yards away, directly in front of Arthur, a double decker bus tried to skid to a halt. Arthur registered it all – including a man standing directly in the bus's path.

Arthur's feet moved on their own will but it was inevitable. The man was struck on the side by the bus, never saw it coming, and flew a few feet through the air before crashing down upon the pavement with a sickening crunch.

Purely on instinct, Arthur reached for his phone and dialled out 911. "We need an ambulance in Grant Park, near Buckingham Fountain. A bus has struck a pedestrian: Get an EMS crew here now!" He knew it was best to call. Calling out in a crowd for someone to call resulted often in no calls being made. His pace picked up into a sprint. Traffic skidded to a halt – luckily not hitting anyone else.

"Let me through! I'm a doctor!" he yelled out, pushing his way through the crowd that had formed. "Get back!"

He dropped down beside the man who was sprawled out on his front with his limbs twisted and his face coated in blood. So much blood…. there was a pool beginning to form beneath him. Arthur didn't dare move him in cause of neck injury. He pressed his fingers against the man's neck softly, trying to pick up a pulse. It was faint but it was there! He rested his cheek as close to the man's mouth as he could. The breathing was harsh.

"Stay with me," Arthur whispered, running his hand through the bloodied hair. "You'll be fine. The ambulance is on the way…. Just stay with me! Don't you dare leave me! The ambulance is here. You'll be all right!"

Arthur could barely make out the man's face but he could have sworn he saw the ghost of a smile before the sound of sirens tore his gaze away.

The emergency vehicle pulled up and two EMTs jumped out. "Get the back board!" Arthur ordered. "His pulse is fading! Hurry it up!"

The two EMTs got to work quickly and strapped the dying man upon the board. Once in a decent position, Arthur pressed his palms against the man's chest and began to push frantically. "Come on, damn it!" he yelled, his voice becoming strained. "Don't you die on me now, you bastard! No one has left me yet and you are not going to be the first!"

The two EMTs looked at each other and shook their heads. "He's done…."

Arthur ignored the statement. He pushed down, his arms becoming stiff and painful. "Live, you son of a bitch! Death isn't an option here! BREATH, YOU BLOODY TOSSER."

An EMT placed his hand upon Arthur's shoulder. "Doctor…. It's over…."

"No… No…." Arthur whispered. He stared down at the dead man's face and felt a lump forming in his throat. No, this was not happening…. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen! It wasn't fair… It just wasn't fair!

* * *

His hands couldn't stop shaking. If he looked in the mirror, he would have seen how deathly pale he was. Without a single word or eye contact, he had walked straight into the break room and made himself a strong cup of tea.

It was now stone cold but his shaking hands were still grasping it tightly. Arthur just stared at the corner of the table, taking in unsteady breaths.

Kiku stood by the doorway, watching in silence. He slowly dared to approach Arthur, trying his best not to startle the Englishman. "I heard about Buckingham Fountain. EMTs said you fought hard for the guy."

"Yeah…." Arthur whispered in a strained voice, without looking up. "I really knocked myself out. Did a lot of good…"

The Japanese man could hear the weak sarcasm in the voice. He went to stand beside Arthur. "I had a case once. Routine heart surgery. They invented the word 'routine' for this kind of surgery. He died on the table. His body just chose that time to go. It was nobody's fault, and there was nothing I could have done differently…. I couldn't sleep for weeks."

Taking in another unsteady breath, Arthur relaxed his hand on his cup. "I'm fine." The last thing he wanted was people trying to sympathise with him.

Kiku sensed this and nodded. But he barely took three steps to the door when he paused again and turned around. "Kirkland-san…?"

Arthur looked up with a dull look in his usual bright eyes.

"You have anyone in the city? Any friends? Family?"

Arthur shook his head.

Kiku smiled faintly. "Do me a favour. On your day off, get as far away from here as you can. Go someplace where you feel... most like yourself."

Most like himself? Arthur thought when Kiku left. There was only one place he felt like himself….

* * *

The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. The colours were gleaming on the water as it softly rippled in the light breeze. Despite the welcoming sight, Arthur barely took in any of it. He pulled his coat tighter over his chest and looked down at the large feline strolling along merrily by his side. They had been out all day and Al never left his side once. Sometimes, he thought, animals could just tell.

Al peered up at him with the usual dorky like smile and purred. "It's all right for you…" Arthur said softly, "You have the thick fur and fat to keep you warm. Don't give me that look! You've been told. We both know you're a fat cat." He paused and looked around at sunset. "Maybe we should… head back now."

The cat's ears twitched and he nuzzled against Arthur's legs. Arthur knelt down and took the Al into his arms. The cat's warm body was like a giant hot water bottle. "Let's get back to the car and maybe we'll get a take-out on the way home. You can have the duck." Ah, he did spoil his beloved pet too much but he deserved every part of it. "You know… I should really thank who gave you to me. Without you, I don't know what I would have done."

Al licked Arthur's cheek with his rough tongue and his tail was shaking wildly like a dog's. Arthur stroked the top of the cat's head and walked on back to the lake house where he had parked his car.

It was a painful to see the house as an empty shell. There was no life that once held it and, if anything, it looked more depressing than the last time he saw it. Al instantly attempted to wiggle around and jumped down to walk down the jetty but Arthur held a firm hold onto him. "No… It's not our home anymore. We don't live there…."

It appeared that no one had for a while. Perhaps the market wasn't looking for an house of the lake shore. If no one brought the place, there was no one there to send his mail to him. Maybe he should take a quick look at it now just to see if there was anything for him?

He placed Al back into the car and walked over to the mail box. The flag was up – just how he left it last time. Acting on an impulse, he opened it. Inside was a single envelope. Was it the letter he left here? He pulled it out and turned it over. To his surprise, it bore his name but not his address. Confused, he looked around. Why would someone leave him a message here…?

Arthur went back to his car and sat down. Al jumped up on to him, causing Arthur to almost drop the letter. "Will you quit that?!" he cried, shifting around so his back was turned on to Al. The writing was scruffy, Arthur noticed, almost like it was written in a rush.

'_Mr Kirkland. I got your note. Is it supposed to be some kind of joke? If it is, I don't get it.'_

A joke? Arthur didn't joke around and if he did – it would be much witty than a letter prank.

'_I'm not the "previous tenant." There was no previous tenant. I thought maybe you had the wrong place – perhaps the Sandburg cottage further along. But how did you know about the paw prints?'_

Arthur was completely baffled. No one appeared to be living here but maybe someone brought it and intended to move in later? And what was this about the paw prints? But the strangest part was the date the person had clumsily scribbled in the corner. 02/18/04? Such a weirdo. But, purely to amuse the idiot, Arthur pulled out a pen and paper from the glove compartment and wrote his reply.

* * *

Alfred pulled up in his pick-up truck after work. Another frustrating day at work but at least Fran – what's her name – made Alfred dessert. It was a nice gesture and Alfred couldn't bring himself to keep running away from her after that. Damn it, she knew his one weakness. Well, one of his weaknesses.

He was just about to head inside when he spotted the red flag was up. Interested, he went to take a look to see if his message had been received yet. He secretly hoped it had because it would make one heck of an adventure! Imagine making contact with someone who would predict the future! He'll love to hear of would happen to him.

A letter without an envelope was sitting inside. He took it out and headed inside. He just arrived at the door when something large suddenly tackled him from above. Alfred screamed a very manly scream and fell back onto the jetty. "DUDE, DON'T KILL ME. I CAN GIVE YOU GHOST MONEY"

He closed his eyes tightly, wishing he hadn't been so silly in buying an old lake house, when he felt his attacker… licking his face?

Alfred opened his eyes and adjusted his glasses. A large fluffy Maine Coon was beaming down at him. Alfred laughed. How embarrassing. "Hey, you're the little guy from earlier! Didn't you get enough fun wrecking my walkway?"

The cat just nuzzled against Alfred. He laughed and picked up the cat easily and carried him inside. "Right! From now on, you're my cat! I think I shall call you…. Hulk Junior!"

Hulk Junior leapt down when they were in the middle of the main room and curled up on the sofa cushions while Alfred returned his attention to the letter he got.

'_Dear Mr Jones. _

_I am very familiar with the Sandburg cottage and I can guarantee I never lived there. I'm old-fashioned, but I don't think a cottage should be over 6000 square feet. So let me try again. I used to live at the lake house, and then I moved. Now I live at 1620 North Racine in Chicago. I'd appreciate it if you would forward my mail if you get any. _

_By the way, it's 2006. Has been all year, ask anyone.'_

"What a nut!" Alfred laughed, grinning down at Hulk Junior. "2006? Is this dude the Doctor or something? He sounds snobbish enough to be British!"

All right. He'll play along with this strange game.


	4. Chapter 4

"_**No one can withstand the charm of such a mystery."**_

When the architecture class was finally dismissed from the room, each one of them broke into conversation about how well they believed their project presentations went. It was a typical student discussion filled with 'oh man, I totally blew that', 'I lost my place too many times. Do you think he noticed the bullshit?', and 'Damn it! I needed this grade!'.

One kept his thoughts to himself after receiving a rather harsh critique from Mr Machado: a young adult with blond hair that held a slight wave to it even when pulled back into a ponytail. He didn't usually have his hair tied back but he had hoped it would distinguish him from... Well, it didn't work. The Cuban teacher had mistaken him again and used any minor flaw in the plan to crush the project.

He sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration, tugging out the hair bubble and pulling it onto his wrist. He had been so proud of his piece too but since Mr Machado put it down as 'making no fucking sense' and 'waste of class time' Matthew was not expecting a good grade. It always was difficult to live in the shadow of another but to suffer from being mistaken constantly... Matthew felt himself close to boiling point.

What was the point of putting himself out there if he was only going to shot down? And if no one took risks as an architect then... Ah!

The crowds thinned out and Matthew pushed open the door and stepped outside into the cool spring weather. He barely took a couple of steps when he noticed the ugly pick-up truck sitting on the side of the path and another similar looking blond resting against it with a shit-eating grin.

Despite his anger with him, Matthew smiled and walked over to Alfred. The moment he got into close range, Alfred pulled his brother into a tight hug that Matthew was only too glad to return. They stood there for a few moments, just hugging in silence. Matthew's annoyance embedded away. He knew his brother too well to know the idiot never meant all this shit to happen.

They pulled apart and Matthew shook his head. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be this busy important man." He would never forget that big speech Alfred made before walking off all that time ago – Matthew was sure the idiot had been practising it days before.

"Never too busy to look up my brother and buy him a drink!" Alfred grinned, clapping a hand on to Matthew's shoulder. "I had an errand in town so I thought I'll drop by."

"It's good to see you," Matthew replied. "It's been difficult for me since you left. You know that he forgets you're gone and –" He cut off when he noticed how rigid Alfred had gotten. The older one was standing back at the building with his eyes narrowed. Matthew didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that Mr Machado had just walked past probably with a cigar in his mouth.

"Let's get out of here," Alfred muttered, opening the passenger's door to his trunk. "I'll get you that drink and you can tell me how it's been going." Matthew reluctantly agreed and climbed into the truck.

* * *

"And he still thinks I'm you! He's falls into episodes and I'm put through hell because of it! Do you know how many projects I had to redo because he fails me on purpose! Sure, he's apologised a couple of times and given me a good score but it happens far too often! You should have never left like that! But you're too selfish to realise people suffer under your actions! Why can't you just apologise and maybe I can have it a bit easier?"

Alfred watched in guilt as his brother knocked back another rye whiskey. No one could ever make him feel so bad like his brother could. It was best to keep quiet though and wait until Matthew had finished his ranting – though that could take several hours. Alfred remembered the last time Matthew went into a full on rant... Alfred was left sobbing for the whole night.

He poked his half eaten burger. Finally, Matthew calmed himself down and looked over at his brother. "So how is life in the condo world?"

Thankful for the change of topic, Alfred brightened up. "It's a challenge managing a project so big, sometimes it's frustrating, but basically I – Haha. I'm bringing in money that's all that matters, right? I got enough to buy a house on the lake." He laughed at Matthew's expression of surprise. "Don't worry. I'm mortgaged up to my eyeballs."

Matthew smiled faintly. "Still. Lake House. God. I guess that makes selling out your dreams and betraying your talent totally worth it."

"Yep!" Alfred laughed again and clinked their refilled glasses together. "Totally, man."

"You never think about coming back to school?" Matthew suddenly asked with hesitation clear in his voice. "People miss you there."

Alfred shook his head. "Nope. Never. I always mean what I say. I'm never going back."

"You sure? You're content just to be this upwardly-mobile cliché?"

"Yeah." Alfred bit down hungrily into his cold burger and swallowed after bearing chewing it. "I even got a cat." He paused after hearing Matthew's laugh and then added, "Hey Matt. Does Juan even ask where I went?"

"No," Matthew replied with a soft sigh. It sucked being the one in the middle. "You should have seen him rake me over the coals today. He hates me."

"Nah, he don't hate you." Alfred chuckled, not wanting to slip back into the ranting brother. "He just hates your work."

Thankfully, Matthew saw the funny side and the two brothers were soon laughing away at the other's stupidity well into the night until Alfred happened to peer at his way and stood up from his chair abruptly.

"Shit. Come on man, I got to check something out. Coming? I can drop ya off afterwards."

* * *

Alfred parked his trunk and the two brothers walked the rest of the journey. It was dark out but the street lights were bright enough for Alfred to read the letter he held in his hand. "1620 Racine," he read aloud.

"What is it?" Matthew asked, trying to peer over to read the letter. "Who lives there?"

"Dunno."

"So why are we going?"

"Dunno."

"Okay..."

His brother had done weirder things before so Matthew decided to just go along with the flow. They came across a street reading '1600'. While Alfred stood there and peered from the street sign to the letter, Matthew went ahead to the next lot. What he found wasn't what he expected.

A giant pit stood in front of him with recently dug foundation. There wasn't a single building there. Alfred joined his side and they both stared as if a building would suddenly appear like magic.

"So..." Matthew said slowly after brief silence. "Should we buzz up?"

Alfred just looked from the letter to the pit in confusion. There was no mistaken the address written on it. And there was no doubting the year written across it either – 20th March 2006. Maybe there had been some kind of mistake? No way was this possible? Sure he joked along at first with the thought of being a time traveller but reality was clear nothing like that existed. So it left someone trying to pull a stupid prank on him.

* * *

Arthur held his hand in front of his mouth as he yawned and dropped down onto the table in the break room. A week off and he had forgotten how rough each shift at the hospital was. He rubbed his eyes and peered down at the letter he had in his pocket.

His mysterious correspondent was making his head hurt. What did Jones mean by a mistake? Wrong address? Wrong date? What a fool.

Exasperated, Arthur dug around in the cabinet for some spare paper and began to write his reply.

* * *

'_I got your last letter. I'm not quite sure I'm writing back but I guess I want to get to the bottom of this_.'

Alfred rested against his kitchen counter, reading the latest reply he found in the mailbox.

'_By the way, for some reason the mail isn't getting forwarded to me. I've had to drive up there to get it. Anyway, no, I did not get the address wrong. I know where I live. Okay, it's ugly, but it's not quite an open pit_.

_And I know the date, too. It's 2006. _'

Alfred laughed. This was definitely an insane joke! He tossed the letter aside and went in search of some paper.

* * *

'_It's __**2004**__. STOP BULLSHITTING ME, PLEASE.'_

Arthur snorted. "What an arse. He needs medication if he's that delusional," he sat aloud with only Al purring in response. "See! Even you agree with me. But some are just too damn stupid. Maybe he needs a firmer piece of proof?"

Al gazed up at him and attempted to climb up on Arthur's lap. He barely placed a paw onto Arthur's thigh when the Brit suddenly stood up and headed into the bedroom. Thinking they may be having an early night, Al leapt off the table and ran off excitedly after him.

The Maine Coon paused by the doorway when he saw Arthur was littering through the wardrobe instead. Al tilted his head and sat down to watch.

Arthur tugged out a tattered shoebox. He clearly didn't take much care in the contents because he dropped the box upside down over his bed and allowed for it all to fall out on to the mattress. The majority of the contents were old photographs.

He picked up one that caught his eye. It was of him and he was laughing along with a fair looking female that he had his arm around. She, in turn, had her arms linked around his neck. It looked almost cute... Arthur scoffed and tossed it back into the pile. Who needed that damn memory back? He wasn't even sure why he had the photo in the first place.

After hunting around and turning many over, he finally came across one of a group. They were having a huge snowball fight and on the back was printed the date 'April 3, 2004'. Perfect.

* * *

The wind was blow fiercely when Alfred arrived home. He pulled the thin coat tighter around him and walked over to the mailbox. The flag was up and he peered inside. Ah! A fresh reply! Alfred grinned and pulled out the envelope only for the wind to take it into the air.

Alfred yelled and quickly gave chase, trying to stamp down upon it. The wind was playing a damn game with him! Every time he got close, it would slip away from him again. Cursing loudly, Alfred stubbornly ran after it until the letter was blown straight under his car.

"Fucking hell! It's one fucken letter! Give me that much, shit face!" He dropped down onto his knees and tried to look around for where it could have gone too. He wanted to know the answer! He wanted to really badly!

Something huge ran past him and slipped underneath the car. He just caught sight of the large fluffy tail and laughed. "You the man, Hulk!"

Hulk wiggled out and proudly held up the letter between his teeth. Alfred fondly rubbed the Maine Coon's head and picked up the cat and carried him back into the lake house. Thankfully, the glass was strong enough to keep out the wind.

After taking the letter from Hulk, he placed the cat down and went into the kitchen so he could cook whilst reading. He was surprised to see a photograph inside. He turned it around and looked at the date on the back. Whoa... That was freaky.

'_Since you don't believe me, a little warning. There was a bad flu going around in the Spring of 2004. I remember because there was a freak late snow, and after that everybody got sick_.'

Alfred rolled his eyes and turned on his oven. Maybe he'll have some soup tonight since it's easy to make.

'_So, my mystery correspondent, if you really are where - or when - you say you are... I hope you're getting plenty of rest and drinking lots of fluids.'_

It was too much for him. Alfred scoffed and crumbled up the letter in one hand. "Yeah, snow. I bet." His hand stretched over the bin when, to his surprise, he suddenly sneezed. What the... Nah, it must have been good timing. Only he suddenly sneezed again and again.

He whirled around and looked out at the lake. Thick clouds had formed overhead and snow was swirling around.

"No... fucking... way..." Alfred mouthed before sneezing again.


	5. Chapter 5

"_**Let us never underestimate the power of a well-written letter."**_

The ground was covered in a foot worth of snow. Even the lake was coated with ice patches here and there. Alfred stared at it from his doorway. He had a large baggie hoodie on and his thickest pair of trousers. His head was swimming and his stomach felt like it was going to empty out any second now. But he eventually persuaded himself to step out into the freezing weather.

He pulled his sleeve over his hand and brushed off the thick layer of snow on the mailbox. He quickly pushed in the letter and closed the box as though afraid it would suddenly bite him. He pulled upon the red flag.

* * *

The weather was incredibly warm; Arthur noticed when he walked along the lake shore. He debated whether or not he should take off his shoes and walk into the water for a while. It would be nice to without worrying about being pulled out further where he'll end up drowning like at sea. He unbuttoned his jacket and went over to the lake house. He was curious to see what Alfred said about his letter.

Al was already at the mailbox, pawing against the post and peering up at it. The flag was up and he lowered it down then took out the letter. Arthur opened it out and written across was a single line in capital letters: '_CAN THIS BE HAPPENING?'_

* * *

Alfred couldn't move. His eyes were wide and fixed on to the mail box. The flag had moved down… he had just put it up and now it was down. It moved. It moved on its own. IT FRIGGIN MOVED ON ITS OWN.

He sneezed and doubled over. His stomach was still giving him hell. He groaned. Alfred had never been sick before! Why was he sick now? It wasn't fair! He just wanted to run around and make a giant snowman army and maybe find someone to play a snow ball fight with.

He sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve before freezing up again.

The red flag was held erected. It had moved again…..

His hand shook nervously as it reached out to open the mailbox. When he took it out, he noticed it was his own letter. It was curious how disappointed and reassured he could feel at the same time. Maybe it was just the flu playing tricks on his mind; he tried to believe as he slipped the letter over. His jaw dropped. Underneath his line was a different type of handwritten he recognised forming a single sentence: '_WHY NOT?'_

* * *

"Al, come on. We can go into the water if you wish," Arthur called behind him, already walking away. He paused when he realised the cat wasn't by his side and looked behind him. "What are –" He cut off and stared in alarm. The red flag had dropped down. How the…?

Arthur peered around, trying to find any sign of someone nearby who might have been playing around with him. Al was still pawing at the mailbox but he wasn't tall enough to move the flag himself. That… couldn't be possible.

Yet, when he looked up at the mailbox, the flag was pulled up in one fluid movement. Al's tail was wagging madly. It couldn't be… so bad if …. If an animal was relaxed around it, right? Arthur slowly approached and examined the mailbox for any invisible wires. Nothing. It appeared like an ordinary mailbox.

He opened it and pulled his hand back in case anything fell out. Nothing. Just a piece of paper sitting inside. He unfolded it and read:

'_Impossible, I know. Not possible. But it's happening.'_

* * *

Alfred shifted from foot to foot whilst clutching a fresh pad of paper and a pen to his chest. It was so fucking cold but he had to see this out. It wasn't something he could walk away from. If it was real, and it was happening, then it was never going to happen again! This was a once in a billion life times!

Giddy, he didn't even flinch when the flag went up. He took out the letter and read:

'_Where are you?'_

"Where am I? Errr…." Alfred peered around. Sniffing, he shrugged and knelt down so he could write on his leg.

* * *

Arthur tapped his fingers against his arm impatiently. The flag went up and he removed the reply.

'_The lake house'_

"Really? The lake house?" He frowned and stepped back to get a better view of his surroundings. "Well, as you can see I too am at the lake house. And, quickly frankly, I don't bloody see you. But this is getting silly and I'm tired of playing around with you. I'm leaving, okay? Bye bye whoever you are!"

He tugged on Al's collar until the cat gave in and slumped back over to the car with him.

* * *

That night, Arthur tossed and turned on his bed. Al was curled up on his pillow, taking up most of the room but he was far too use to Al's actions to care. The mysterious letter writer was in his mind and he couldn't shake it off. What is it was real? He was throwing away something incredible if so.

He pushed up into sitting position then stood up. The floorboard creaked under his foot but he ignored it and went into the living room to get fresh paper. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

"I don't know where to start," he admitted weakly.

* * *

Alfred curled up in bed, the flu still affecting him badly. He tried to take some medicine but couldn't keep it down. Thankfully, Hulk was tending to him… if using jumping tactics to scare the hell out of him was meant to be helpful. Honestly though, Alfred was glad to have the cat around. It curled up beside him on the pillow and made him feel a little less lonely.

He opened up the letter he received this morning. It was keeping his mind off the sickness.

'_I don't even know the right questions to ask. Is there anything you can tell me that might shed some light on this?'_

The question made him frown in thought, trying to recall something that might help make this easier to understand. He rolled over and stared at Hulk beside him then smiled. Of course!

* * *

'_I think we have the same cat. Mine's a Maine Coon.'_

* * *

'_Does yours jump on you when you walk inside and scare the hell out of you? I swear, one day he will hurt himself or me!'_

* * *

'_Yes! Haha! Does yours have to be in your bed too? I can't get him to sleep anywhere else!'_

* * *

'_I call him Al.'_

* * *

Alfred peered up from the letter and down to the cat who was pawing at his leg for a bite of Alfred's sandwich. "So you're Al?" he laughed as the cat's ears twitched. "Or… will be! All right! From now on, you are Al. Better get use to it, little dude."

* * *

An ICY patient was in crisis. By the time Arthur ran in, the monitors were beeping and flashing red. Moving swiftly, Arthur began CPR. "Nurse! Get a syringe! Hurry up!" He was not going to be losing another patient! Not again! Not so soon!

The nurse went to work. As the two fought for the man's life, Ludwig appeared in the doorway. He stood there, looking as firm and intimidating as always, watching the doctor work. "Are you all right?" he asked in a gruff voice, not wanting to upset Dr. Kirkland when he was recovering so well.

Arthur didn't respond straight away. He kept up the CPR. And, after a couple of minutes of hard work, the monitors quietened down and the crisis passed. Dr. Kirkland wiped his sweaty brow and smiled faintly. "I think we're good…"

Ludwig nodded and left. As Arthur double checked everything was stable, he got back thinking to the last letter he had received. It was funny how they were talking about their shared cat but… know nothing of each other.

* * *

'_Maybe we should introduce ourselves properly. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I'm a doctor. I'm dedicated to curing the sick or, at least, trying to.'_

* * *

'_Name's Alfred F Jones. I'm an architect .I like to build .I wouldn't say my current project is ideal, it allows me to be here in this place. And that's enough for now. Okay. I'm still trying to get this straight. If in two years you'll be living in an apartment building at 1620 Racine... which doesn't exist yet... where are you, my time?'_

* * *

'_Two years ago in your time? I'm in medical school, Madison, Wisconsin. I mean, in 'my' now I'm in a hospital cafeteria in Chicago, Illinois, but for you... Okay, this is weird. This is weird.'_

* * *

'_What's it like in the future?'_

* * *

'_I'm afraid the world is pretty much the same. Of course, we all dress in silver metal jumpsuits and drive flying cars. No one talks anymore because we can read each other's minds. But the truth is, man from the past, not much has changed in 2006. Mobile phones are smaller though.'_

* * *

Alfred couldn't stop smiling. He rested back on his armchair and gazed at the T.V. It was playing one of his favourite films – Back to the Future. Doc. Brown was yelling at Marty.

"Great Scott, Marty, do you realize what you've done? You've upset the entire space-time continuum!"

He blinked and looked down at the letter he read earlier. What if…?

* * *

'_Okay. One thing worries me. What if, in sending these letters, in communicating like this, we accidentally tamper with the course of time itself, altering human history forever in the process?'_

* * *

'_Good point. Let's avoid doing that.'_

* * *

Alfred whistled as he walked down the jetty. Though he still hadn't recovered, he felt well enough to be moving around. The moment he opened the door, Al leapt out and jumped onto him. Alfred yelped and then pulled Al off him and down on the floor. "No!" he said firmly. "We're going to get this but you have to work with me, kay?"

Al just wagged his tail and peered up at him.

He sighed and patted the cat's head. "Let's true one more time, got it?" Alfred walked back outside and closed the door behind him. He walked to the mail box and then back to the lake house. This time, when he opened the door, Al sat there with a goofy smile on its face.

"That's it!" Alfred cheered, taking out a treat from his pocket and tossing it down at Al. "Good boy!"

* * *

'_I'm sorry. I did have to change one thing.'_

Arthur read the line again and again but was reaching no understanding of what Alfred meant. What did he change? Why would he do that when he was the one to talk about risks to humanity? Confused, he took out his house key and unlocked the apartment door.

What he expected, he didn't get.

Instead of a large ball of fur hitting into him, Al was sitting in the hallway and peering up at the door. When Arthur stepped inside, Al stood up and walked over to nuzzle his leg.

'_You're welcome.'_

He couldn't help it. Arthur laughed until tears were falling down his eyes.

* * *

Alfred was stuck into the routine of checking his mailbox at every single possibility he got; when he woke up, just before he left for work, when he came back from work, and right before dinner, and finally right before bed.

He had just arrived back from filling up his truck with petrol when he noticed the flag was up. Excitedly, he ran over to it and opened it. The letter was neatly tucked inside a red woollen scarf. He pulled it out and then wrapped it around his neck before reading the letter that came with it.

'_Thanks for the favour. Here's one for you. I made it myself. Put it on and don't take it off for the rest of the month. It's going to stay cold until the middle of April.'_

Alfred beamed. The scarf was just the thing he needed in this miserable weather.

* * *

The scarf never once left him when he stepped outside the lake house, including inside the trailer at the construction site, Alfred kept it on. It was warm and comfortable. He even, though he would never ever admit to it, tried to see if he could catch a scent from it. He did. It was strongly of tea and it made him laugh.

* * *

Arthur should have been use to the night shifts by now but it was still tiring him out. He had just finished his third cup of tea and was wandering aimlessly along the corridor when he heard a female's voice and light flashing from one of the windows in a day.

He stopped outside it and peered through then smiled and shook his head. The doctor opened the door and stepped inside. "Hey, what are you doing? You're supposed to be asleep."

The little girl looked away from the classic film that Arthur recognised to be Notorious. The two main characters were locked in a heated and passionate kiss together. "Is she gonna marry him?"

Arthur sat down on the edge of her bed and chuckled. "What do you think?"

"I don't know." The girl wrinkled her nose. "He's kind of old." The doctor's laughter brought a smile on the child's face. "My mom's last boyfriend was bald. He was nice but my mom didn't marry him. There's always something better coming around the corner. That's what she says." She pointed at the screen. "Maybe that's what that lady should do. Wait for something better to come along the corner?"

"Maybe…" Arthur's smile faded slightly. "But if she's not careful, she could spend her whole life waiting…."

The child blinked and thought it over before looking at the T.V.. Arthur thought back to her question. Who would want to spend their whole life waiting for something better? Who could do that? His hand went to his stomach; a strange knotting feeling forming there. Who would ever be able to wait for so long…?


	6. Chapter 6

**_"Anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing; but the age of emotion she certainly had not."_**

* * *

Arthur gazed out over the edge of the building's rooftop. He had finally managed to get to the top and it was worth the effort it took for he could catch a glimpse of the lake from here. Spring was returning and the weather was cooler. Arthur must have spent so much of his time at the hospital because he could barely recall winter. Heck, he didn't even bother with Christmas this year and only have a small present for Al – a large ball of yarn so the blasted cat would leave his knitting alone.

He tapped the end of his pencil against his teeth and peered down at the letter in his hand.

_If we're going to keep doing this, we've got to know more about each other. Send me lists._

Why is it that the easiest of questions could leave a mind blank? The Englishman sighed and shifted around to get the blood rushing back through his legs. He didn't want to come off as dull but… he couldn't lie.

* * *

Alfred double checked the recipe book. His finger ran along the printed text, trying to recall where he had lost his place. With a small nod of his head, he returned to the counter and picked up the gin and lime juice. This was too bizarre for him to not try.

He poured the liquids into the cocktail shaker as the recipe stated then shook sealed the shaker and shook with all his might. While he shook, he looked over at Arthur's letter again.

_Okay. Let's see. I like cats, as you know. I like gimlets – that's gin and lime juice. I like punk music, having played in a band before. I love reading the classics – my favourite is Jane Austen. And… I love my work. And embroidery._

_Turn offs: infectious diseases, and guys with moustaches._

Alfred laughed, amused at the last sentence. With the gimlet ready, he poured it into a glass and took a sip – only to immediately cough and pull a face of disgust. "Err… bottoms up!" He shrugged, gulping down the alcohol in one go.

* * *

The lights were still on when he finally entered the cinema. His seat wasn't too hard to find and he held his drink over his head to avoid someone knocking into him and spilling it everywhere. The rules were stricter here than what he was use to and the crowd was somewhat over-whelming. But nonetheless, Arthur sat down and rested back.

Everyone was talking around him, mostly about their expectations of Silent Hill. To keep himself occupied until the film started, Arthur took out Alfred's letter and read while drinking his banana milkshake.

_For me – milkshakes and burgers. Action movies are the greatest! Especially superhero ones. I also love horrors! You'll have to let me know what are the good ones coming out your time so I know to book in advance! Hahahaha! _

_Turn offs: small packages._

* * *

Alfred's legs swung beneath him as he sat upon the ledge of the lake house. He could see people going by on the sailboats. He remembered doing the same in his youth – he used to own the lake! It was exciting and he could race around with Matthew. Alfred always won, of course. Well, majority of the time.

It was clear why the lake house appealed to him but not many others, he thought as he read Arthur's letter.

_I forgot one. I like the Lake House._ _I rented it after med school. It was the strangest place I'd ever seen. I couldn't imagine anyone building it. Or... I couldn't imagine building it and then not living here. I loved the way it sort of... hovered over the water. I loved that jetty. I don't know why. But it was the only place where I never felt homesick as though… It was meant to be mine._

So Alfred could not hide a soft smile on his face when he realised that another could love this place as much as him.

* * *

The hospital was full of life – pun intended. Party decorations were up and people were celebrating to the best of their abilities when no alcohol was allowed inside the building. It was one of those few nights where most of the staff arrived just to congratulate the birthday boy and have a relaxed moment instead of rushing around. They even helped out on the shifts so everyone had time to laugh and joke by the buffet table or attempt bad dancing in the space cleared.

Arthur was invited so he felt that he had to go. He wished a happy birthday and made a few jokes but the need to withdraw soon settled upon him and he distanced himself by sitting at the far end of the hallway, engrossed deeply in the latest letter.

_You have to leave land to get to the front door. It's like getting on a ship. Every time you come home you're embarking on a voyage. Sorry. Pretentious._

Kiku paused in his approach to talk to the Englishman. He watched as Arthur actually laughed and smiled – his eyes almost twinkling in the process. Giving a knowing smile, Kiku bowed his head and walked off without interrupting.

* * *

_Don't apologise. You can be pretentious. You can be anything you like._

Alfred smirked, fingering the corner of the letter as he chewed upon his pen. He remained hunched over the desk, his chair having been nicked by a certain female.

Françoise had her reasons. Though deep in work, she could easily wrap things around her finger to get what she was after. And it worked like a charm, she thought while looking at the firm buttocks on the American.

* * *

Arthur wasn't expecting anything more than a letter on his next visit to the lake house. He pulled out what appeared to be a map with markings and numbers scribbled around it. Confused, he picked up Alfred's letter.

_But the lake house isn't the only beauty here. I know it must be different but different is good! Gives you a chance to explore! This city is amazing. Come on, take a walk with me this weekend! I'll show you all it has to offer._

"You're crazy…" Arthur muttered, looking over at the notes Alfred scribbled down by each circled part of the map. How was he meant to refuse that much hard work? Shaking his head, though smiling, Arthur returned to his car. A walk might be fun.

* * *

It was a pleasantly warm day – a welcomed sight for Alfred after all that snow and the flu he caught. Nothing could keep the grin of his face.

Alfred whistled merrily, dashing across the road recklessly to get to the first house he saw would be worth mentioning. He remembered the stories he was told and took out his highlighter and circled the location on the map. This was going to be fun!

* * *

Arthur crossed the road to get to the first marked house on the map. True to his words, Alfred did not disappoint. This was amazing. Who knew that Chicago would be so different from how he first saw it?

* * *

_You didn't forget to mention your wife, did you?_

* * *

_Of course I love my wife, who is also a doctor. Plastic surgeon for small farm animals._

* * *

_Good. I'm married too. I've eight children, and none of them look like me. I'm worried, Artie._

* * *

_I would be too._

* * *

_I'm single._

* * *

_Me too. Oh wow, number 27._

* * *

_She's a beauty. My father used to tell me she was the grandma for all the houses in the city. He used to take me on walks like I'm taking you now._

* * *

Arthur paused to catch his breath by resting at the park. His legs were sore with the amount of walking he did but... it was definitely worth it. He looked down at the empty bench seat beside him and smiled sadly.

_Alfred?_

* * *

_Arthur?_

* * *

_I wish we could have done this walk together._

* * *

Arthur looked down at his map. There was just one spot left to visit. He walked on along the path, somewhat surprised when the map led him away from the houses that was coming into view and towards the row of shops instead. None of these looked anything remarkable but the map wasn't pointing him towards a building.

To his surprise, he stopped directly by an empty lot that children were using to play football in. Confused, Arthur stepped to the side and kept to the wall to avoid interrupting their game. When he happened to look down, however, he noticed white paint upon the brick work. When he turned around to peer at the wall – he felt his heart skip a beat.

**Arthur, I'm here with you. Thanks for the lovely day together!**

* * *

The words never left Arthur's mind since he returned from the walk around the city. Every time he was reminded of them, his heart would beat quicker than usual and his cheeks would heat up. It did him good to recall them when his mind was weighed down with the pressure of work.

He was just nearing the end of his shift though when Kiku Honda approached him nervously. Arthur's experience with people told him that Kiku was going to ask of something and, for a fearful second, he wondered if Kiku had caught on to what he was doing.

Kiku made no mention of the letters or the random blushes. Instead he asked, "Kirkland-san. I need a favour. I've got to have the night off. Could you possibly take my shift?"

Arthur mentally groaned. Though it was better than being interrogated, it still wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Tonight?"

His mind must be playing tricks on him for he could have sworn the usual content Kiku looked embarrassed. "Please?" Kiku asked shyly, "I've got a date. She just asked me, and I really want to. I'll cover for you next time."

Kiku could be trusted to keep to his word. He was highly reliable. So Arthur just nodded and headed off to the staff room to get a fresh cup of tea to wipe away from of his exhaustion.

* * *

Alfred eyed the mailbox closely. He couldn't help but feel disappointed every time he found it to be empty. What had happened over the last couple of days? Was Arthur all right? Was he safe? He was dying to know what happened.

Time was too frail – what if something did happen to Arthur? Alfred wouldn't know about it. He could end up thinking that Arthur decided not to bother with him or maybe he moved away or maybe Arthur was in an accident and -

Okay, maybe Alfred was over-reacting but it was difficult to keep still when he was eager to get a reply.

* * *

Arthur's pad was sitting next to him. The night was pulling in and the television set was flicking through advert after advert. Arthur paid no attention to it, having it on purely for background noise, and tapped his pen against the paper.

_Long days these days. I just worked 30 hours straight. Every time I stop to take a breath, I realise how isolated I've let myself become. Believe me, you can get a bit desperate._

Al meowed, making Arthur looked over to the chess board sitting between them. The cat was pawing at one of the white pieces. Arthur picked up the knight and moved it. "Good move... Really good move," he muttered aloud before moving one of his castles.

_It's not that I'm complaining, I love my work. And our tour through Chicago opened my eyes to its beauty. But my heart still misses the lake house and its trees. I miss those trees so much. It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard. I wonder what the hell I'm doing here, alone, in this grey city. And I miss the way the world looked from the window of the Lake House._

* * *

Alfred folded the letter into his back pocket and peered out of the trailer's window. His head rested on his hand. He could recall how difficult it was to adjust from the lake house to the big city. It was a big change and not an easy one. If Arthur felt how he did, or close, then Alfred would have to do something to help.

But what? He thought as he looked at the scene beyond his window. The half built buildings were blocked from his sight by the recently delivered infant trees waiting to be planted on the construction site.

He blinked then smiled.

* * *

The sudden jolt of the train startled Arthur out of his sleep. He blinked a few times, wondering where he was. Did he miss his stop?! He peered out of the window and was relieved when he recognised the surroundings. No, he woke just in time.

He rubbed his eyes and looked again. There was about ten minutes left to go until the train arrived into the station and, to top the day off, it looked like it was beginning to rain. Usually, Arthur loved the rain. But when he was walking home in it? Not so much. Wonderful. Now he would have to run a bath when he got in and try not to fall asleep again.

* * *

Alfred's music was blasting out of the car windows. He nodded his head in time of the beat and paid no attention to those who stared at him. It wasn't the music that made them look. It was the tree in the back of his pick-up that did. He chuckled as he peered at the people in his rear view mirror. It wasn't the typical item to carry around so he would have stared too.

He pulled up outside the large empty lot that would soon be the apartments and stepped out. Ah, the night air didn't smell as fresh as it good by the lake house. Too much pollution.

Due to his strength, it wasn't difficult to carry the tree out and dig into the ideal spot just outside the boarder that surrounded the lot. No one bothered him since there was barely anyone around to do so.

* * *

Arthur was soaked. The rain expected quickly turned into a storm. Claps of thunder were echoing around and the rain was falling hard. He ran up to the front door and struggled to get his keys out of his bag. His clothes were sticking to him and his usual scruffy hair was plastered against his head.

The keys slipped from his fingers making him groan in frustration. "Bloody...! Fucking...! Tosser!" he knelt down to pick them up as the rain pounded down on him when suddenly -

It stopped.

He could still flashes of lightning around him and the rain was echoing across but... nothing was falling onto him. He slowly stood up and peered towards the sky. Only his view was blocked by the branches of a young tree with thick grown leaves – high enough to form a canopy over him.

Where had it...?

He held his hand over his shirt, his grip tightening on it as his heart pounded louder than the rain. Tears were forming in his eyes and he made no attempt to stop them falling down his cheeks. It was... just like a dream.

"Thank you, Alfred... " he whispered.

* * *

Alfred grinned, pleased with his hard work and rested against his shovel.

"Don't worry, Arthur. We'll be together in time. Even if we're far apart, I'll find a way to be close to you and take care of you cause that's what a hero does!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**Special thanks to Dreiks, Yazeki, Simplyfun, Miss. , AkaiShinda, Otps-a-plenty, and the mysterious guests for their reviews. It really helps brighten up my day.**


	7. Chapter 7

**_"Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from. . . . Every moment rather brought fresh agitation. It was an overpowering happiness."_**

* * *

He had been at the lake house for half a year and it never occurred to him to bring guests over. Sure, Françoise had tried to trick Alfred into inviting her but he always found an excuse to slip away and avoid making plans. It was strange though because Alfred always saw himself as a sociable person. Between him, Al, and Arthur's letters, he didn't expand out far into socialising.

So he decided to invite his younger brother over. It was a good day. After playing several video games, the two retired to the rooftop with a couple of beers.

"I still can't believe you've been hiding out here. Is this really yours?" Matthew asked, stunned and flabbergasted after finding out what house Alfred had brought. "When was it built?"

"Eighties. I was only a kid."

Matthew smiled sadly at Alfred who was too fixated on the lake scenery to notice. "I like it. It's like Le Corbusier meets Frank Lloyd Wright meets... me in five years. It's perfect."

"Nope." Alfred walked over to the end of the house and looked. There was a narrow ledge that ran along the back with a fifteen-foot drop into the water. "Can't swim. There should be a stairway down to the water. Maybe a porch. Ya know, something."

His brother looked over the edge too but shook his head. "It would ruin the line. Total aesthetic catastrophe."

Alfred didn't appear to be listening. It was something that Matthew was far too use to. Whenever someone disagreed with Alfred, he would suddenly have 'selective hearing' and ignore them. Matthew sighed. Sometimes, he felt like the older brother.

While Matthew was left to his thoughts, Alfred had turned on the stereo. Expecting the usual radio station, Matthew was surprised when he recognised the songs from the British Band Rolling Stones. Not Alfred's usual music taste. He decided not to question it. It was best not to with his brother's abnormal behaviour in the last few months.

"Alfred..." He cleared his throat and summoned up his courage. "I didn't come here just to visit you."

That made his brother look up. "Huh? You didn't?"

"There's an agenda. If you drop this bourgeois thing and come back, we can still graduate together in a year. Start the firm."

Alfred pulled a face. He hated it when Matthew used fancy language around him. "You mean that Visionary Vanguard Associates thing?"

"I can't do it alone."

"Sorry Matt." Alfred shook his head and drained the last of his beer from its can before tossing it into a bag. "Can't do it."

Matthew looked at him pleadingly. "If you talked to him-"

"Forget it."

"Al-"

"He doesn't want me back!" Alfred huffed, picking up another can. Its foam fizzed out and soaked his fingers. "And I don't want to go back. Everybody is happy this way."

He knew this would happen. Having Alfred and Juan in the same room was a recipe for disaster but he never thought it go as far as this. Matthew couldn't even recall the reason for the bitterness but he was certain it may have had something to do with their father.

Matthew tried again. "What about your work? It was... great. Even he had to admit that. Look, I know it's hard. If you suck it up and put all the personal shit aside for a few months then you will have your degree and -"

"I said forget it," Alfred said in a sharp tone. Matthew fell quiet and looked away and Alfred instantly felt bad again. He sighed. "Sorry, Matt. I like it up here. I like the location and I like the company."

Something about his words made Matthew look back at him. Maybe it was his French blood, but it almost sounded like... "Are you involved with somebody?"

Alfred coughed on his beer. When he got his breathing back, he shook his head quickly – making Matthew suspicious. "No way, dude! No way! I mean. If I was then you would totally know of it, right?"

"Why did you hesitate?" Matthew smiled, pleased to have one over on his brother.

"I didn't." Alfred stuck out his tongue.

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"You're denying it a lot."

"Because it's true! Duh!"

"Okay, okay!" Matthew's smile broadened. "All I'm saying is, maybe you should think about the future."

He couldn't stop himself. Alfred burst into laughter, stunning his brother.

"W-what did I say?"

* * *

Arthur stared out of his window. The curtains were left open to allow the night air to circulate around. He could hear the traffic down below yet could see nothing unless he stuck his head out to have a look. Pity.

The end of his pencil tapped against desk he was sitting at. Al was curled up in the corner, snoozing away lazily. Arthur had tried to sleep but his mind refused to rest. Though they agreed not to do anything that would upset the 'time line', Arthur could not resist any longer. It was only a small thing but he would love to see what would happen if it worked.

He picked up a calender from 2004. It was his and he kept it because it had large photos of English landscapes. He flicked to the June month and rested his pen onto an entry circled '5:46 to Madison'. It would be harmless to suggest and Alfred wouldn't need to agree...

"Let's try something..." he muttered, returning pen to paper as he wrote his letter.

* * *

It was raining by the time Alfred pulled into the carpark by the local train station. It was only a light drizzle and he didn't notice it in the mist of his excitement. Though Arthur told him what time, the American arrived early. This could be his chance. His big chance to finally catch a glimpse of Arthur! Not the handwriting, but the real Arthur in person!

Should he speak to him? What would he say? Would there be time too? He needed to say something that didn't sound stupid. Oh god.

There was a skip in his step when he headed up the steps and dashed into the station. A train was already coming around the corner! He would have to hurry!

_Around 'your' time two years ago I lost something at a train station. I was on my way back to school and I left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is. Then put it in the mailbox. This is your mission if you choose to accept it._

There was a handful of people around. Alfred tried to look out for any single males. There was a couple of families, an elderly couple, and a business woman. But no one that was alone who resembled what he thought Arthur would look like.

"Final call for the 5:46 to Madison, making the following stops..."

Alfred was getting desperate. He wandered across the station. What if he was already on the train? Should he run on and have a look? He didn't care if he ended up in Madison! He could get the train back. Or stay with Arthur...

He moved onto the platform, planning to jump on when he skidded to a halt. There was a male, a single male, about to board the train. He had blonde hair and looked smaller than Alfred. Could that... could that be him? It had to be!

Alfred was just about to go over when someone beat him to it. A young female, with long crimson hair, had ran over and wrapped her arms around Arthur. Arthur turned around with a smile and they hugged briefly. The woman then moved in for a kiss.

Neither of them noticed Alfred.

It would be awkward to approach now. Alfred wanted to look away but his eyes were locked firmly onto Arthur's face. Though his eyebrows were in need of trimming, he was far from average looking. And those eyes... They were... Alfred couldn't even think of a poetic word to fit the description.

"Final boarding!" The train conductor loudly announced, snapping Alfred out of his state.

The couple broke apart and Arthur stepped onto the train. Alfred looked around for any sign of what _his_ Arthur was referring to. Something he left behind...? What could it be? He tore his eyes away from the train and looked over to the benches.

Sitting in the middle, begging to be found, was a tattered book. Alfred picked it up. It was a well-worn copy of Persuasion by Jane Austen.

He looked around and saw the train beginning to move. Scanning the windows, he caught sight of Arthur waving to the woman he had just been kissing. The woman turned to leave, giving Alfred a change to run after the train. With the book held firmly in his hand, he raced side by side with the train until he was close enough for Arthur to realise there was a mad man beside him.

They locked eyes. Alfred felt a curious feeling rising in his stomach. Neither of them looked away and, as the end of the platform prevented him from going further, Alfred raised his hand and waved weakly until Arthur and the train were out of sight.

* * *

Arthur and Al arrived at the lake house early the next morning. The Englishman was far too excited and drove directly up to the mailbox. He jumped out and opened the mailbox. To his surprise and disappointment, there was no book sitting inside.

He sighed. Maybe Alfred didn't see it? Or maybe he couldn't make it? So many possibilities. Arthur tried to remain positive and took out his notebook.

* * *

_What are you doing July 4th?_

* * *

_Going to the fireworks, I guess. I go every year. Why?_

* * *

_What do you say we both go?_

* * *

_You're not asking me out, are you?_

* * *

_No, no. I just thought it might be good to do the same thing, that's all._

* * *

_The same thing, two years apart. Like before?_

* * *

_Better than staying home._

* * *

_Okay. Let's go to the fireworks._

* * *

The park was crowded when Alfred arrived. He loved this day. It was his favourite celebration right next to Christmas and Thanksgiving. He wore his star spangled outfit with a matching top hat. Children were already playing with sparklers and Alfred was keen to get a couple for himself. But his stomach was growling and food called to him!

He walked over to the vendors. The usual hotdogs and hamburgers were out along with a few stalls selling especially decorated cakes. He brought one of the cakes first and placed it into his pocket then went over to get the biggest hotdog he could.

There were two men running the stand. They definitely looked father and son, the son probably in his 50s with the father looking roughly 80 years old. Pretty good for an old man, Alfred thought. "Your biggest hotdog!" Alfred grinned, handing over the money first.

The vendor was just about to hand over the sausage when his father stopped him with a tut. "Give the man his money's worth! Add more onions and peppers to that!" He shook his head as his son laughed. "I'm still teaching him the business," he informed Alfred who joined in with the laughter.

"Thanks old man! Enjoy the fireworks!" Alfred said, taking his massive hotdog.

* * *

Arthur felt out of place amongst all the loud Americans screaming and cheering for the day. It wasn't that he was British but it was more to do with the fact he wasn't a big on celebrations. He only came because he had a feeling that Alfred would enjoy it. He hoped so anyway. He walked over to the vendors that were, amusingly enough, not as crowded as the rest of the park (everyone else was trying to find the best spots to see the fireworks).

He went over to the sausage stand. The vendor there was alone and looking rather miserable. Arthur coughed and shifted from one foot to another. "One, please."

The vendor nodded and piled the hotdog high with onions and peppers then handed it over without a word.

Arthur took a hungry bite from it and walked around the side of the park. While he paced, he thought back to the conversation he had with Alfred.

_Did you go to the station? I never got my book._

* * *

Alfred was sitting on a bench. His hotdog was gone and he was licking the last bit of grease from his fingers. What was Arthur doing at this time? Was he by the food? Was he sitting by the bench? What would he be eating? What would they be discussing?

His eyes wandered and rested upon a young couple who looked no older than himself. They were laughing together and smiling whenever their eyes met. Their arms were linked together as they walked by.

…. Would they be doing that? Would they be laughing together?

_Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it. Hey... There's something I've been meaning to ask you. Who was the girl at the train station?_

* * *

Arthur rested against a tree. No one was hiding underneath them because they wanted a clear view of the sky. His hotdog was half-eaten. It was delicious, truly, but the portions were too big for him to stomach.

He was about to move when he suddenly noticed a familiar face in the crowd. Kiku was walking by with a dark haired woman by his side. She held a flower in her hair and looked cute. They were smiling and talking together, not noticing Arthur only a short distance away.

The Englishman couldn't help but chuckle. It was sweet to see.

_My... fiance._

* * *

_Your fiance?! Why didn't you tell me?_

* * *

_You don't tell me about your love life._

* * *

_Because I don't have one. Unfortunately. God, I can't believe it! You said you weren't married!_

* * *

_I'm not married. We were engaged when I was back in England. I... realised during our relationship that I was... gay. All right? I broke it off and came here. She followed to get me back but it didn't work out for her. I told you before. I'm singl_e.

* * *

Cheers erupted out amongst the crowd as the first fireworks exploded into the night sky. It was spectacular event. Red, blue, and white lights shot through the darkness. Each new piece more amazing than the previous. Lights reflected on to the faces below as they formed different shapes. The explosive sounds echoed off across the land.

People cheered louder. Rattles shook, beer was split, sparklers waved madly, and families, friends, and lovers hugged over the happy moment they could share together.

* * *

Arthur arrived home shortly after midnight. The flat was stifling despite the windows being open. He fanned his hand in front of his face and didn't even bother to stroke Al when the cat sat down in the hallway waiting.

He went straight to his bedroom and stripped out of his clothing until he was wearing no more than his underwear and turned on the fan he had. The chill helped in cooling him down.

_So. How were your fireworks?_

* * *

The glass walls didn't bother Alfred when he tossed his clothes onto the ground until he was standing nude for the whole world to see. He stretched and yawned then went over to a window and pushed it open. It was so hot that he could feel sweat running down his back. He half thought about jumping into the lake but exhaustion was taking its toll on him.

He shifted over to his bedroom and collapsed onto the mattress with a groan.

_Not as good as yours, I'll bet. They get better every year._

* * *

Arthur turned onto his side and stared at the empty spot beside him on the bed. He reached out a hand and placed it onto the pillow. Though it was hot out, the pillow felt cold to the touch.

_Yeah..._

* * *

Alfred only had a thin blanket covering his lower half. He didn't care. His mind was only fixed on one thing and one thing only. His hand rested onto the pillow beside him and he sighed.

At least they could be together in their dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

**_"She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but alas! Alas! She must confess to herself that she was not wise yet."_**

* * *

Alfred was restless. He couldn't hold it in any longer. He had to tell Arthur what happened at the station. What was the worst that could happen? Arthur might be upset but he'll get over it, surely? He found his pad of paper and quickly scribbled out a line.

"When I saw you... No, that won't work. Errr... I wasn't expecting, no! No!" He scribbled out each sentence and then took in a deep breath. Okay, he can do this. He just had to be careful how he worded it.

* * *

Arthur pulled out the letter he had been saving for one of the hospital breaks. It was another night shift and he was certain it would be something to cheer him up when he was feeling down and bored. Night shifts were often dull.

He wasn't sure what to expect but it definitely wasn't the following words he read:

_You didn't tell me you were handsome._

Stunned, Arthur peered around in embarrassment as if expecting Alfred to be watching her from around the corner. No way... Alfred saw him?! He was only meant to get the book not... Who was he kidding? Arthur would have done the same.

* * *

_No fair. You saw me but I still don't know what you look like._

* * *

_You're right. I wouldn't mind knowing what I'm like in two years. Why don't you get together with me in the future and let me know what you think?_

* * *

He reread Alfred's words over and over again. Each time he became excited and nervous at the same time. If they could pull this off, it would be bigger than anything he had ever done before. He could be seeing Alfred face to face and soon! But they would have to make arrangements!

He picked up his pen and began to write:

_Okay! Why not give me a call on 10th July, 2006, at about... _Arthur checked his watch. He bit down on his bottom lip. It was 9:04. _Call me at 9:05._

The tip of his pen had just finished the last curve in the '5' when the phone suddenly rang. Arthur jumped and stared at it. His heart was racing and his throat felt dry. Should he...? Hesitating, he reached out and picked up his phone. He pressed the answer button and held it against his ear. "H-hello...?"

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"It's Scot."

It took a moment to it to sink in. It wasn't Alfred. It was his brother. The adrenaline rush died down to disappointment. What timing that bastard had...

"Oi. I'm in Chicago. We need to talk."

A red headed man was standing beneath one of the street lights when his brother finally turned up. The two just stared at each other in silence until Scot dropped his cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot.

"Thanks for coming out," he muttered, tucking his hands into his pocket.

"Sure." Arthur said shortly.

"Been too long."

Arthur didn't bother to reply. He couldn't help it. Things had been frosty between them for the last few years and he was not going to sit back and believe Scot had changed his attitude towards him. There was a reason for him being here.

"How's Al?"

"Good."

"Adjusting to city life?"

"Yes."

The two brothers stared at the traffic, uncomfortable with the small talk and awkward silence that followed. It was another minute or so until Scot talked again.

"Have you eaten, by any chance?"

"No, but –"

"Neither have I."

Scot began to walk along the path with Arthur reluctantly following on after him. Despite the small talk, this was probably the longest conversation they had had in a long time. Arthur wasn't sure if he liked it or not but it was a chance from the typical yelling and fighting each other. If it wasn't for their mother, the two would have gone their separate ways long ago.

They walked on until they came to a restaurant. In fancy writing above the doorway was 'IL MARE'. Arthur raised his eyebrows and looked behind him. Just opposite was a skating rink where people were still playing around despite the time.

He looked back at the elegant restaurant. It looked far too expensive for them both but his older brother had walked inside without consideration.

For a place that was absolutely packed, it looked quite serene and stylish. Scot went up to the hostess. "Two for dinner."

The hostess was taken by surprise. "Tonight?"

"Yup."

"I'm sorry, sir. We're completely booked for tonight. You have to make a reservation." She opened the large book in front of her and scanned her finger across the pages. "In three... no, I'm sorry. In four months from now we have a dinner opening if you'd like to reserve. Five-thirty or eleven-thirty?"

The brothers looked at each other in joint surprised. What kind of fancy place had months filled with bookings? Both of them shook their heads at the same time and left without another word to the hostess.

After a quick search around, they found a simple pizza place to eat. Again, none of them spoke much behind the little talk and it was beginning to get on Arthur's nerves. When they were near the end of their pizza, Arthur finally bit the bullet.

"Why did you come here?" Arthur asked, finding it difficult to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "You haven't spoken to me since you returned home and now you suddenly turn up out of the blue?"

As if he expected it, Scot leant back in his seat and stared at his younger brother with a steady gaze. "They want you to come back home."

"No." Arthur frowned. "I told you when I left that I will not return unless I have their apologises. I don't think you have them with you, do you?"

"You're behaving like a brat," Scot said sternly. "You ran away and expected us to chase after you. It didn't happen. And you're bitter because of it."

Arthur bit the inside of his cheek and glared before responding, "If I recall, she did and you followed after her. Were you hoping I would take her back and everything would be fine? I told you once before, _brother of mine,_ I have no interest in her or her gender. If you can't accept that then I'm remaining here."

"I followed so she wouldn't make a fool of herself," Scot argued back. "And it's a good thing I did for you broke her blooming heart!"

"I told her we were over before I –"

"You know what I'm referring to."

Arthur didn't. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the poppycock that Scot would come up with.

"The party," Scot said impatiently. "You were snogging someone right in front of her! She arranged the damn party and you couldn't show her the slightest bit of respect."

"Gordon Bennett, Scot!" Arthur cried out, catching the attention of a few late night customers around them. "I didn't snog him! I kissed him, once! It was just some random guy and it was years ago! I had too much to drink! Fucking hell, I can't believe you would even remember that."

"You're a selfish brat. You can't do anything unless it's for yourself." Scot stood up, tossing a few notes onto the table to pay for his share along with a card. "If you feel like growing up, give me a call."

"Bite me," Arthur responded with a scowl.

* * *

Alfred didn't want to be here. He really didn't. But it was purely for Matthew's sake that he did. Yet, in the back of his mind, he knew this would not end well. With much determination, he raised his hand and knocked upon the door.

Hearing a grunt "Come in", Alfred opened the door and stood in the doorway. Juan Machado was sitting by his desk. The room looked no different from the last time Alfred was there. Books and half drawn images were lying everywhere and there was a strong smell of Juan's favourite cigars lingering around.

Juan looked up and even Alfred could sense the frosty atmosphere. Alfred walked over to the desk and tossed an envelope onto the desk. Inside was a cheque. "Here's what I owe you. You paid for my tuition and I didn't finish."

"So?" Juan didn't attempt to pick up the envelope.

"You wasted your money. I'll feel better if you took it." Alfred didn't want to be in debt to anyone if he could help it.

Juan shrugged and took up the envelope to pocket.

"I heard a rumour that someone brought the house."

"Yeah. So? It's my birth right. You were just the work partner."

The two stared at each other in an almost challenging way, daring the other to make the next move. Neither did. The tension mounted until, finally, Alfred spoke up.

"I'll be making changes to the design too. Matt disagrees but I don't care. It's mine now so I can do what I want with it."

"Your father worked hard on that and you're just going to fuck up the whole thing?" Juan scoffed. "He didn't design it for you. He made it for his wife!"

Alfred could tell this was not going well. If they continued down that route then an fight would probably break out. The American narrowed his eyes and turned towards the exit. "Whatever, old man. It's mine now. I don't care for the past. Just cash the check and get the hell out of my life. Oh, and would it kill you to cut Mattie come slack?"

He slammed the door hard behind him, not caring for any replies he might have gotten.

* * *

A positive boost in morale settled through the construction crew. Alfred couldn't blame them. After months of hard work, they had finally finished a completed condo. He rested back in his driver's seat and grinned. "One down."

"Forty-four to go." Françoise replied, sitting beside him in the passenger seat. "We're not terrifyingly behind schedule. Just... alarmingly."

Alfred shrugged. "It's gonna be okay. We'll catch up. We could use a couple more guys who know how to handle a backhoe. And the waterline to number fourteen needs to be resealed-"

"Shut up," the Frenchwoman cut in quickly. "I am annoyed at you, mon chou!"

"Huh?" Taken aback, Alfred looked back at Al the cat who looked equally confused. "What did I do?"

"I thought you were supposed to be on top of things around here." She raised her foot onto the dashboard, her skirt sliding back to reveal her smooth leg, and pointed at her boots. "You never noticed these! Don't you remember? You told me to get them."

Alfred looked at the red flashy cowboy books and then laughed. "Right. Wow. Not exactly what I had in mind, but yeah. It's a start."

Françoise smiled. "Bon. I was thinking, if you're not busy tonight, we should –"

Oh Christ, Alfred mentally thought, he should have seen this coming. Please let something happen to avoid this awkwardness. He'll even take an asteroid crashing into the completed condo and –

A loud screech made Alfred turn around in time to see Al practically jumping out of the window. He had never seen Al act like that! And to his horror, the cat wasn't stopping there. Al was dashing off over a hill – quick for someone his size.

"H-hey!" Alfred scrambled out of the trunk and shouted after Al. The cat didn't even look back. "Shit! Al! Get back here!" Alfred bolted after him, not noticing the frustrated woman trying to keep up behind him.

Al wasn't only quick but he was good at avoiding Alfred's attempts to grab hold of him too. They had moved away from the construction site and onto a town street. If Alfred didn't grab him soon, he was sure the cat might get hit by a car. To his relief, Al dashed into one of the front gardens of a house.

A red headed man was in the driveway, unloading boxes from the boot of his car. He just heard Alfred's yell in time to look down and see the cat. Quick as lightening, the man scooped up Al in his arms before the cat could escape.

Alfred caught up, panting slightly, and took him from the stranger. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it. Funny, he never ran off like that before." Al wasn't attempting to do so again. The large Maine Coon just rested in Alfred's arms like nothing had happened.

"Gotta keep an eye on them. What's his name?" the man asked in a thick accent that Alfred knew wasn't from around here. Heck, he didn't think it came from any of the states.

"Al."

Alfred shifted the cat onto his shoulders where it laid lazily. He noticed the incredible amount of boxes in the car – not packaging but cases of beer and wine. Alfred didn't even recognise some of the brands. Wow. "Here, let me give you a hand with that."

"Thanks. I'm Scot, by the way."

"Alfred. I own a lake house nearby."

"Nice."

While they unloaded the car together, Françoise finally caught up. The boots were not made for running and she was panting heavily while holding a stitch in her side. She stopped outside the house, her hand on the gate, to catch her breath. "Oh, you found him. Dieu merci."

Alfred and Scot both grinned, amused by the sight of the woman. When the last of the beer was sent inside, Scot and Alfred shook hands.

"Hey, just so you don't think I'm planning to drink all this by myself - I'm having a bunch of friends over tonight. Locals. You two are welcome to come."

Françoise and Alfred exchanged glances. Françoise clearly didn't look too thrilled with the idea but Alfred didn't notice it. He was about to open his mouth when she cut in over him. "We have plans," she said, taking Alfred's arm and leading the way down the path.

"Too bad. It's a surprise party for my brother. He should be back tonight from med school."

Alfred stopped suddenly and looked behind him. "He's in medical school?"

"Yeah. In Madison, I think. He comes here for weekends."

He couldn't help but stare. The longer he did, the most he could see some similarities between Scot and Arthur's appearances. It was little but the eyes were the most noticeable. Green was not a common colour but Arthur's were brighter than Scot's.

Ignoring the tugs on his arm, Alfred asked, "What time does it begin?"


	9. Chapter 9

_**"He had an affectionate heart. He must love somebody."**_

* * *

Arthur was exhausted when he left work. It was dark out as expected and he regretted arriving without his car. Now he would have a long walk in front of him but, with any luck, it might wake him up.

However, he just reached the corner of the road when something caught his eye. A large neon sign reading 'The Cove' was hanging above a small little pub size place. If Arthur recalled correctly, he remembered overhearing workers talking about it. If they were correct, it was often a silent little get away for them and the hospital staff received discounts.

Going by what day it was, Arthur decided to treat himself and walked inside. The place was dead and mostly empty except for two people sitting in the corner. Perfect. He slumped down at the bar glumly and ordered his first drink of the night.

* * *

Françoise was having mixed feelings as they drove up to the house. She didn't like parties were people got needlessly drunk and she especially disliked parties were they were mostly strangers. However, Alfred was going and it was a rare moment where she could join him outside the work place.

Alfred didn't listen to her for the entire trip. It was mostly whining and complaining and asking if she was over or under dressed for the occasion. This was his big moment and he wasn't going to screw it up like he did at the station. He'll meet Arthur face to face and there won't be anything preventing them from talking. If only he knew what to say!

He pulled up by the driveway. Cars were already parked there so Alfred stopped by the side of the street. His heart beating wildly, he left the truck and only remembered Françoise when she called after him. Restlessly, he shifted from foot to foot until she was back at his side and together they walked inside.

The party was already in progress though there was a pretty full crowd. Françoise gave him an expression of 'why are we here?' but it went ignored.

"Bar is opened in the kitchen!" a voice yelled out that Alfred recognised as Scot's. Immediately, crowds began to shift through to grab the drinks but Alfred stood back. He scanned through the guests, trying to find if Arthur was already here. Clearly not. He sighed and sat down on a sofa next to a couple who greeted them.

"Doug Ryan."

"Alfred. This is errr... Franny."

"Françoise," she corrected with a scowl.

"I teach Earth Sciences at the middle school. Marjorie coaches Speech and Debate. She's an expert in public speaking. Isn't that right, honey?"

Marjorie nodded but looked as equally bored as Françoise did. Neither of the two men took any notice of their sulking.

"You know anything about Earth Sciences?" Doug asked.

Alfred shook his head.

* * *

Arthur wasn't expecting company. It took him a few minutes to register that Kiku was sitting next to him. He opened his mouth to say hello but ended up draining his drink instead. If he had any more, he would have to order a taxi to get home.

"According to most accepted social norms a person should not drink alone after ten P.M., unless they have a good excuse. What's yours?" Kiku asked after ordering a drink.

"... Don't have one," Arthur lied.

Kiku smiled. "Would you like another drink?"

"Sure." Arthur placed down his empty glass. "Make it another whiskey." He waited until the alcohol was back in his glass and then stared at it. Maybe he should open up a bit. Usually he would talk to Alfred about his problems but he didn't want to burden him too much. Kiku would never respond in an outrageous way.

"Okay." He sighed. "I do have an excuse."

* * *

Bored, bored, bored, bored. All the excitement of arriving here was gone thanks to Doug's endless talk about the Earth. Françoise was resting on his arm, looking tired and ready to sleep. Alfred nudged his arm to wake her up. She sat up and peered around, looking thoroughly disappointed when she realised she was still at the party.

They were spared from waiting any longer when a red headed female stood on top of one of the tables. Alfred instantly recognised her as the girl that kissed Arthur back at the station. He frowned and looked away until she called out, "Okay, everybody! This is it! He's almost here! Everyone into position."

The lights were switched off and everyone was crouching down or hiding behind items. Alfred just stayed immobile on the sofa with butterflies returning into his stomach. It felt as though his heart was beating in time to Arthur's footsteps leading up to the door. Any second now... any second...

The door opened and a figure stepped into the dark room.

Someone turned on the lights in the room and people jumped out of their hiding places whilst yelling out "Surprise!" and "Happy Birthday!" From the kitchen, the red headed female brought out a cake covered in candles. Everyone was smiling and laughing. All but one, Alfred noticed. Arthur looked far from impressed at the ambush party.

* * *

Kiku blinked and rested his glass back onto the bar counter. "It is your birthday? Why didn't you say? We would have had a cake for you."

Arthur shook his head. "It's just time passing. I hate making a big deal out of it. I see it more as another day gone by. Nothing special."

His friend seemed to understand that, having a similar way of thinking. "You keep a lot to yourself," he thought out-loud. "Apologises, Kirkland-san. I do not mean to intrude." He shifted uncomfortably as Arthur stayed silent. "There is nothing wrong with it. I've sometimes wondered what else you have in your life besides work. Family? Girlfriend?"

"I did..." Arthur admitted, too drunk to care what was said now. "But that was a few years ago. I lost them all in one move. Clever, right?"

* * *

It was impossible to get close to Arthur with the woman pulling the Briton around like a show dog. She was introducing him to all the guests. Strange, Alfred thought, that she would invite so many people that Arthur didn't know at his own party. She seemed to be on good relations with them though. She always appeared blind to the obvious, which was a big deal if Alfred noticed that, because Arthur was looking a little annoyed and his voice was almost robotic.

Somewhere were along the way, he lost sight of Françoise who went to find something to entertain herself with since Alfred was not being the best of companions. He couldn't blame her since he had been unable to look away from Arthur since his arrival to the party.

Arthur leant in to whisper to the female. The woman nodded and they slipped away into one of the rooms. Alfred hesitated but went to follow. He paused outside the room and listened in.

"Were you surprised?"

"You could say that. When are they going to leave?"

"Why? What's the matter?"

"I had a long train ride! I was hoping for a bath and an early night tonight. Alone."

"But they're your neighbours! I thought it would be nice to invite them over and make friends! So when I move in -"

"Elizabeth," Arthur cut in, his tone now sharp. "I told you. This relationship is over. You're not my type. How many times do I have to tell you? You weren't even meant to be here! I left England for a reason and you were it!"

Alfred cringed. It was far too busy personal. He wanted to kept listening in but the sound of weeping made him step away. At least, Alfred felt better in knowing there was never a lot going on between them.

Wishing Arthur luck with the situation, Alfred walked off to get some fresh air. He'll find a better time to talk to him.

* * *

"I realised I was homosexual so I broke it off. No one in my family took it well. They liked her. But she was the worst one. Couldn't leave me alone. So I decided to start over and came here. I was going through my internship when she arrived on my doorstep with my brother."

"What happened?" Kiku asked, only half listening to the drunken rants of the man beside him. The Japanese man was becoming awkward in the situation he was in.

"Doesn't matter." Arthur slouched down on to the counter and sighed. "I finally got them to leave and that was that."

Kiku nodded. Since Arthur was becoming more open, Kiku dared to ask the question he and others have been asking for the last couple of months. "Who do you write to?"

Arthur picked himself up a bit and stared.

"I couldn't help noticing. Every time you get a break at the hospital you're writing, or reading a letter." Arthur continued to stare making Kiku look away. "Sorry. It's none of my business."

"No... It's okay," Arthur said slowly. "There is somebody. It's errr... kind of a … long distance relationship."

"How long?"

"Long."

"How do you mean?"

Arthur motioned to the bar keeper to fill up his drink and then smiled sadly. "We just write letters. It's more of a pen-pal thing." He drained his drink quickly and hiccuped before slouching again. There were tears pricking the corner of his eyes. "Story of my life. Keep everything at a nice, safe distance. Everyone..." He hiccuped again and wiped the tears from his eyes. "The girl who was right in front of me, who wanted to marry me - I push her away, I run. Meanwhile, the one man I can never even meet - him, I want to give my whole heart to..."

Kiku looked sympathetic and rested a hand awkwardly on his friend's shoulder. "So you've really never spoken face-to-face?"

"Never." Arthur sighed. If only he could turn back time and find where Alfred was at his time. Sure, he knew of the lake house and it wasn't that far a distance from him and – He blinked and suddenly straightened up. "No... There was... that one time!"

* * *

Alfred was sitting on the bench in the back garden. The windows were open so he could hear the sound of the drunks and music going on and on. Thankfully, no one was concerned with going outside so he was left alone with only his thoughts to keep him company. Or so he thought. He could hear footsteps behind him and turned around to see Arthur walking out and almost slamming the door behind him.

Arthur took a deep breath of air and closed his eyes. His fingers were tangled in his hair. Alfred wanted to reach out to hold him but Arthur opened his eyes before Alfred even stood up. The two stared briefly.

"... Happy Birthday." Alfred smiled weakly.

Arthur frowned. "If one more person says that to me tonight I'll kill them."

Alfred raised his eyebrows and rubbed the back of his neck. He was no good at this. All those nights he spent wondering what they would do if they met and they were finally alone together and he still didn't have an idea.

The Briton mistook his silence for offence and quickly apologised. "Sorry. I know it's no big deal. Just another year. I guess I'm not really in a party mood. So... what are you doing out here? You know the party is inside, don't you?"

"I was... hoping to meet somebody," Alfred said honestly. "Someone Scot told me about."

"Is this a fix up?" Arthur asked, wondering if he should head back inside and leave Alfred alone. "Are you meeting them out here or...?"

"Nah." Alfred smiled brightly. "I'm trying to work up my nerve." He shifted over to one side of the bench so Arthur could sit down next to him. They were so close that Alfred could feel himself become tense and nervous.

"So where are you from?" Arthur asked politely. "Another neighbour?"

Alfred shook his head. "Nope. I live by the lake." He kicked himself mentally and took a deep breath then smiled again. "You'll love it. And when I move out, you'll love it so much that you'll rent it. Or err... I mean, you could. If you wanted to. But seriously, you will love it. Feels like a fresh start, you know?"

Arthur was taken aback by Alfred's choice of words. "Are you planning on moving out then?"

"Well... I guess so." Alfred tried to think back to their past – or future – conversations. Arthur never did say when he moved in, only when he moved out. Come to think about, why would Alfred have moved out in the first place? He loved the lake house. He was going to redo her over and everything. But why leave? "Some point after you finish medical school I think..." he thought aloud. Alfred noticed the blank stare and chuckled weakly. "Errr Scot said something about you being there," he quickly covered up.

Damn it. He would have to be careful with what he said. This Arthur knew nothing about him. He can't screw this up and come off as a weirdo. Sadly, it appeared that Arthur was already becoming suspicious.

"What makes you think we'd like it?"

"Cause errr... I just know. I get a good feeling about it. I have them sometimes."

"Can you swim?"

"Sure, I took lessons as a kid."

"No, I mean, can you swim from the house?"

"Oh..." Alfred laughed from embarrassment and, after a brief pause, so did Arthur. It eased the awkward tension between them and Alfred finally became able to relax. His actions became more animated and his tone picked up his excitement. "I'm working on that. I've actually thought - well, you'd have to see it, but I've always had this idea you could change it. Nothing major. But a few new elements would really transform it. A deck out back. And some stairs."

"Stairs going down into the water?"

"Yeah. Just like a gentle slope, curving down... So you could step out the back door and slip into the Lake whenever you felt like it. Or if you just wanted to sit out there..."

"That sounds nice," Arthur admitted with a soft smile that made Alfred's heart skip a beat. He looked over his shoulder towards the house. The party didn't show any signs of dying down. He sighed. "It's pretty late. Hadn't you better get back in there? If you're going to find your dream girl tonight?"

"Yeah..." The American didn't even bother to correct him. He just stared, wondering what he should say next. What interests did Arthur have? Music was one but there was also - "Hey, have you read Persuasion?"

Alfred raised his eyebrows and leant forward so his arms were resting on his knees. "It's my favourite book. Why?"

"I have a friend who likes it. I've been meaning to read it."

"You should. It's good."

"I will." Alfred would attempt to read it. He had it safely stored in his house. He just wanted to hold on to it just a bit longer since... it was Arthur's and it was all he had other than the letters. "So, what is it about?"

Arthur thought it over. "It's mostly about... waiting," he said slowly, his voice far gentler than before. "There's two people meet. They almost fall in love, but the timing isn't right, and they have to part. Then, years later, they meet again. They get another chance. But they don't know if too much time has passed, if they've waited too long, if it's too late for things to work out."

"Sounds sad," Alfred muttered, picking up on the connection.

"It's not. Not in the end." Arthur peered up at the night sky. Alfred could have sworn he saw the stars reflected in those beautiful emerald eyes.

"Why do you like that?" Alfred asked breathlessly.

Arthur laughed and shook his head, giving Alfred one of his most genuine smiles he had all day. "I don't know."

The American couldn't help but join in the laugh. "Don't get me wrong! It sounds beautiful -"

"No, no. It's terrible."

"Yeah, it's pretty terrible."

The two laughed together. Alfred couldn't believe his luck. They had barely been together for a few minutes and he had him laughing twice! Each time the laughter died down, it quickly picked up again until they were best resting back and gazing at the stars together with their lips tugged upwards in silly smiles.

"Have you ever been through anything like that?" Alfred asked softly, watching Arthur in the corner of his eye.

"No. I've... never been in love. Never had the chance. My family has... strict plans for us all. I mean, it was my mother's dream of one of us becoming a doctor. I felt it to be my obligation so I started training and..." His smile faded. "Then she died."

Arthur stood up and walked off down the garden with his arms wrapped around himself. Alfred, not wanting him to leave, got up and followed. Arthur stopped by the rose bushes and Alfred could smell their sweet fragrance in the air around them. Music was drifting in the air too; a gentler, easy-going, tune.

It was almost like destiny was encouraging him to take the next step.

"Arthur, I-... I just..."

"Hmm?"

He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning pink. "Do you know this song...?"

Arthur listened. It was a new one of Paul McCartney's. "Yeah..."

"Do you sing?"

"No." Arthur looked over at Alfred. Something... something about him just seemed... "But I can dance," he suggested, holding up his arms with a weak smile.

_I'm very sure, this never happened to me before. I met you and now I'm sure. This never happened before..._

Alfred slowly approached Arthur and rested one hand on Arthur's hips. He was touching him... they were touching... Not just paper, he could feel Arthur. The real Arthur. He could feel his warmth close against him. He could feel his hand linked with his own.

_Now I see, this is the way it's supposed to be. I met you and now I see. This is the way it should be... _

Arthur moved Alfred in time with the music. He rested his head against the other's chest, hearing the heart rise a few beats. It was soothing next to the music.

_This is the way it should be, for lovers. They shouldn't go it alone. It's not so good when you're on your own..._

Alfred pressed his lips against the top of Arthur's head and closed his eyes. The world melted around them. There was nothing left but the two of them shifting their feet along the grass while swaying with the other. It was better than anything he could have dreamt of.

_So come to me, now we can be what we want to be. I love you and now I see. This is the way it should be. This is the way it should be..._

A shiver ran down Arthur's spine. He could feel Alfred's breath against his ear. A light blush crossed his cheeks and his hand on Alfred's shoulder tightened its grasp.

_This is the way it should be, for lovers. They shouldn't go it alone. It's not so good when you're on your own._

The mood was almost spoilt when Alfred tried to ease Arthur into a spin. Arthur, not wanting to pull away, easily pulled Alfred back close – only for Alfred to trip over his own feet. He fell into Arthur and the two tumbled back onto the grass.

_I'm very sure, this never happened to me before. I met you and now I'm sure. This never happened before..._

Alfred pushed himself up so he was resting on his elbows and peered down at Arthur who was beneath him. "Sorry... I... Are you - " A finger pressed against his lips, silencing him. The two stared into each other's eyes until Arthur raised himself up enough to connect their lips.

Never had anything felt so magical. Not even defeating the final boss in hard mode felt as satisfying as this. Their lips parted and the kiss quickly moved onto the next stage; maintaining its slow pace of a long and lingering kiss.

"Arthur?"

And just like that, it was over.

Alfred quickly sat up and Arthur moved out from beneath him. What was a tender moment was now another uncomfortable one. Scot, Elizabeth, and Françoise were all standing there looked shocked and stunned at what they had just seen.

"Oh... Scot. Hey. Umm... He was just telling me about his house. It errr... sounds really great."

Scot's tone was stony. "Great."

Arthur looked to Alfred, unable to keep eye contact now. "We're, uh, definitely interested."

"Good." Alfred still could not stop staring. Every part of him wanted to repeat the kiss over and over again.

"Alfred," Françoise said sharply. "It's late."

He reluctantly got to his feet. "I'll be in touch. I promise."


	10. Chapter 10

**_"The last few hours were certainly very painful," replied Anne; "but when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure. One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering, which was by no means the case at Lyme. We were only in anxiety and distress during the last two hours, and previously there had been a great deal of enjoyment. So much novelty and beauty!"_**

* * *

_My God. That was you. I remember you. Why didn't you tell me who you were?_

* * *

_Come on. You would have thought I was insane._

* * *

_But I liked you. That was our chance. You should have told me._

* * *

_What about your girlfriend?_

* * *

_What about **your** girlfriend?_

* * *

_She's not my girlfriend!_

* * *

_Neither was she!_

* * *

_She was then! I mean, she is now._

* * *

_I broke up with her! How many times must I say it?! And maybe 'now' would be different if you had said something then. Maybe now would have come sooner, or maybe now it would be our now, not just my now, you know?_

* * *

_No! I don't!_

* * *

Arthur crumbled up the letter and tossed it across his room whilst scowling.

* * *

Alfred kicked the dustbin on his way back inside. "Perfect," he muttered in annoyance. "Our first fight." What the fuck did Arthur honestly expect from him though? If he went to approach Arthur from his time and say 'oh hey you don't know me but you will do in two years time' he'll come off looking like a nut!

He picked up Al who was wrapping himself through Alfred's legs and place him on top of the counter before getting some kitty food for him. "You're lucky," Alfred complained loudly. "You don't have to worry about fucked up relationships. It's not easy. But, man, that kiss..."

Al didn't pay attention and just buried his face into the bowl of food as soon as it was placed in front of him.

Alfred rested his back on the counter. It was then he noticed the blinking light of his answering machine. He pressed the button and listened to the message. He recognised the voice as his brother's.

"Alfred. Listen. You have to get to the hospital. It's urgent."

* * *

Alfred had sprinted to the hospital from the carpark. He fought past the crowds and went straight to the admissions desk. "I'm looking for Juan Machado. He was admitted today. That's Machado. M-A-C- maybe that's a K - H"

"Mr Machado?"

Alfred turned around and spotted a doctor coming towards him. The doctor was smaller than he was with dark black hair. He was certain that the doctor was Asian which was confirmed when he introduced himself.

"I'm Dr Honda. I'm attending to your father."

"He's not my father," Alfred was quick to protest. "He's... a family friend. What happened? Is he okay?"

"He's okay," Kiku explained gently, "Walk with me, please. He's had a heart attack. Fortunately relatively minor, and his students got him here quickly. We're monitoring him. We'll probably want to keep him for a day or two."

Alfred walked beside Kiku, listening to the situation. Though the word 'heart attack' didn't make him feel better but if Dr Honda thought it was only minor then that was good, right? Kiku lead him through the corridors until they arrived by the ward. Matthew was pacing around looking pale. Alfred rushed over before the younger brother could notice and pulled his brother into a tight embrace.

Realising who it was, Matthew held on and broke down in tears. Alfred held on, letting Matthew cry for as long as he needed. Though he was never close to Juan after what happened, Matthew came to see the Cuban as a good friend despite the problems that rose with mistaken identities.

"How are you holding on, Mattie?" Alfred asked when his brother pulled away. He reached into his pocket and took out a tissue for him then indicated to the closed door. "How is he? Is he sleeping?"

"It was just a shock," Matthew said weakly as he dried his eyes. "I blame the cigars he constantly has. But he's awake. I wouldn't go in there though."

"Why not?" Alfred frowned. "What is he doing?"

"He's evaluating a student project."

The two brothers stared at each other before breaking off into an awkward laughter. Talk about dedication, Alfred though. If he was that ill, he'll rather stay in bed and do nothing but play video games. Forget about work!

Alfred shook his head and let himself into the room. Juan was propped up in bed, hooked up to a monitoring machine, reading. There was a far amount of architectural journals around him and papers. He must have found the energy to tell Matthew to bring them with him. At least it wasn't a cigar.

Swallowing his pride with great effort, Alfred walked closer to the bed. When Juan looked up, he didn't bother to put his book away.

* * *

Alfred sat in the corner of the hospital cafeteria. He managed to collect spare sheet of paper and a pen from one of the staff members and began to write out his letter.

* * *

_I know I haven't written for a while but I need to... I wanted to tell you about my father. He was famous. Really. He built the lake house but sold it when my mother died. I was a child then. . I guess he was trying to slam the door on that chapter of his life. Of course it was my life too. I got it back._

_Within a few months, he died too. Heartbroken. I hated him for leaving me and my brother. But he had a work partner. He tried to take care of us but... we just didn't get along._

* * *

It was night when Alfred managed to bring a cup of coffee into the room. Juan was still up and working as though he never had a heart attack. Alfred had to admire him for that though it didn't sit well with him for doing so.

"I had to sneak it past three nurses," he complained, placing the cup onto the bedside table. "I almost got busted and it would have been your fault."

Juan grunted, not looking up. "It's not decaf, is it?"

"No."

Juan picked up the cup and took a sip then resumed with his reading. When he noticed Alfred was still hanging around, he looked up in disapproval. "I don't need you."

"I'm gonna stay until your test results come in." Alfred couldn't leave a person in need no matter how awkward it was between them. It wasn't right. Besides, Matthew would have a fit if he left after Alfred managed to persuade him to go home and get some rest to recover.

"That's not until morning."

Alfred shrugged. "There's no point driving all the way back up tonight."

The silence returned. Alfred couldn't help but fidget. To distract himself from the tension, he picked up one of the unused architecture magazines and sat down glumly.

* * *

_I've made my share of small, stupid mistakes in my life. But I've made one huge, epic, massively stupid ultra-mistake. And that was going to architecture school to study under the great Juan Machado._

* * *

Juan was fast asleep. Alfred watched him breath in the dimly-lit room. The monitoring machines were blinking silently. He carefully removed the empty coffee cup from the man's hand so not to wake him and then stacked up the papers neatly on the bedside table.

Since he wasn't going anywhere for the night, he adjusted himself on the hospital room chair to try and get comfortable. It wasn't easy.

* * *

_Everybody said I had my father's talent. Try to learn from the old man. Follow in his footsteps - maybe all the anger and mistrust would just... melt away. Right. Every class becomes a war zone. Every dispute inflamed by years of bitter feeling._

_Somebody had to surrender. So I did. I quit. And that is why, at the same age when my father was embarking upon a legendary career, I am throwing up condos and living in my old man's house._

* * *

Alfred was exhausted by morning. He did not sleep well on the chair but at least Juan was still sleeping well. He stood up and stretched out his arms with a yawn. He should get himself a cup of coffee. Hopefully Al wouldn't be missing him too much.

He got lost in the hospital but he finally found his way to the cafeteria again and ordered himself the largest cup of coffee he could buy and drank it while it was still hot so the burn on his tongue would help wake him up. Once he got the results, he'll give Mattie a call and then head back home. He didn't want Arthur to worry about his absence, especially after the disagreement they had not so long ago. It felt so petty in recent light.

More alert after all that coffee, Alfred dashed off to the toilets before returning to the room. He had barely opened the door when he walked straight into Dr Honda. Alfred stepped back and apologised then caught sight of the patient files in his hand.

"There you are," Kiku said in relief. "I thought I'd missed you. We were just going over his results."

"I was coming right back. He didn't ask you to wait?" Alfred swore under his breath. "Jesus." That hurt. Why couldn't he have told the doctor to stay there until Alfred got back?

Kiku lead him to some chairs and sat down beside him. "I'll tell you everything I told him. He's going to be fine, as long as we do some intervention."

"Intervention?" Alfred asked in confusion. It was only a minor heart attack so why did he need an intervention?

"An angioplasty," Kiku explained as simply as he could. "It's quite routine, and it should prevent a repeat of the coronary episode. He's agreed to schedule for tomorrow, get it done quickly."

Wow. So now Alfred and Matthew were going to be kept in the dark about all this? Fine. Whatever. Alfred didn't care. Why should he? Juan was just a bitter old man who could do what he wanted. "Whatever he wants. I got to go back to work." He stood up and walked a few paces until Kiku called after him.

"Don't you want to speak with him before the surgery?"

"No."

* * *

_I don't know what I was expecting. I guess part of me thought, well, the only one who was close to my dad is in a bed in Cook County Hospital about to have serious surgery; it might go a little bit deeper than 'Is this decaf? But of course that's not how things work._

_When I quit school I rejected everything they stood for. That's how he saw it. So buying this house must have seemed like a sick joke. Maybe he was right. I don't know and it's too late to change things now. One thing's for sure: if I really was hoping for a tearful little bedside reunion. Maybe learn what I can from him about my dad. I guess I'm as stupid as he thinks I am._

_Well. I seem to have poured my little heart out here. Sorry. Thanks for reading._

_I find myself wanting to tell you things I've never told anyone. Things I didn't know myself until I wrote them down to send to you. Maybe that's the strangest part of all of this._

_Love, Alfred._

* * *

Arthur lingered on the letter with his finger stroking the word 'love'. Al trotted up and climbed up his leg so he could curl up on Alfred's lap. Arthur petted him, thinking. Alfred had done so much for him. He should be able to do something back for him. But what?

* * *

Al wiggled his behind and then pounced onto the quilt covers. He clawed his way up the side of the bed until he was able to drop down lazily next to his master. Alfred was awake, not even noticing the cat, with the phone in his hand. He couldn't bring himself to call...

* * *

Arthur arrived early for his shift. It gave him the time needed to find what he was searching for. Thankfully, he knew where to go. He went into the lift and pressed the button for the basement room.

He impatiently tapped his foot until the doors finally opened and he practically ran out. The records room wasn't too far. It would be difficult to locate the right patient record. Thankfully, he had half an hour to do so.

And those 30 minutes were almost over when he tugged down the file labelled 'Juan Machado.' He sat down on the cold floor and spread it open. The pages were mostly of test results and the usual medical reports. But one page made him stop;

A death certificate dating two years earlier to the day. It was signed by Kiku Honda. The place of death was the hospital itself and the cause... coronary failure during surgery.

The file slipped from his hands. It didn't give him time at all. He may already be getting ready for the surgery. Alfred should know! He had to know!

Tucking the file away, Arthur began his search for Kiku. It wasn't too difficult since the Japanese man was just passing the lift when the doors opened.

"Kiku! I've got an emergency. I have to go! Take my shift!"

"Now?" Kiku asked, confused by how rushed Arthur looked.

"Please! I covered for you! Thanks!" he didn't wait for a response and ran out of the hospital.

* * *

It was hell on the roads. The traffic was fierce because of the morning rush but it gave Arthur time to scribble out a quick letter. The second he arrived at the lake house, he opened up the mailbox and roughly shoved the note inside before yanking up the red flag.

"Come on!" he said impatiently, hitting the top of it. "Damn it, answer me! Get back to me! Read the damn note! Come on!"

* * *

Alfred stepped outside with bags forming under his eyes from the lack of sleep he had had. It would be silly to go to work when he was in fit condition to drive but he needed something to get his mind off the problem.

He walked over to his truck, never noticing the erected flag on the mailbox. He climbed inside his vehicle and drove off.

* * *

Arthur opened up the box quickly but his letter was still sitting inside with no signs of being taken out. He slammed it closed again and walked back over to his car. It was silly to hope he could have changed time...

* * *

Alfred was dozing off in the trailer when his mobile phone rang off. It caused him to jump awake. Yawning, he took it out and answered. "Y-yeah?"

"Mr Jones? This is Dr Honda. I'm afraid I have some difficult news."

The phone slipped from his hand. Françoise screamed when he suddenly bolted out, barely avoiding her by inches. She tried to call after him but he didn't stop or even look back.

* * *

The pick-up truck came to a smooth stopped in front of the lake house. Alfred stepped out, lacking his usual energetic moves and smile. He was pale and lost. He stood there for a while, just feeling the wind blowing by.

He slowly began to move. He noticed the red flag was up and walked over. He retrieved Arthur's note and glanced at it briefly before letting his arm fall to his side. The note fell from his fingers and fluttered away into the water beneath the jetty.

The ink smeared in the lake till only the words 'back' 'hospital' 'now' 'problems' were readable.

* * *

_Alfred. I am terribly sorry about your loss. I knew I had to at least try to warn you. I thought I could get there in time. I hoped we could change what happened. I was wrong. I guess these things can't be changed._

_If they could, then the file wouldn't have said what it said, so I never would have tried to warn you... and then we'd be right back where we are anyway. It just goes in circles and I don't pretend to understand it. All I know is the shock feels fresh to me, even though it happened two years ago, so I can't imagine what it's like for you._

* * *

Alfred was blank-faced the whole way through the pastor's service. His brother was clinging to his arm, tears streaming down his cheeks. Alfred couldn't even bring himself to comfort his brother. He looked away inside, peering at the other mourners. The majority of them were students but he caught sight of Dr Honda at the back who looked as though he hadn't slept in days.

* * *

_These things just... happen sometimes. I know. Last February - I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really warm - I was at Buckingham Fountain. A man was hit by a bus in front of me. I tried... but I couldn't save him. He died right there in my arms. Not like what you're going through, but it bothered me a lot. And a friend gave me some good advice. He said to go somewhere that made me feel most like my true self._

_So I did. I drove to the Lake House. And that was the day I got your first letter. I found you that day in__ a place we both love, and it's a place your father built, so I hope you can find some solace there. And I hope that whatever separated you will come to seem less important, and perhaps, in time, disappear._

* * *

Arthur scanned over the architecture section of the bookshop he was in. It was the third shop he had visited but his determination was as strong as the first trip. He took down a book and flicked through the pages. He paused on one page and smiled softly to himself. This was the one.

* * *

_Yours, Arthur._

_P.S. About the book –_

* * *

Alfred opened the mailbox and was surprised to see a book tucked inside along with a letter. He took the letter first and read it then turned his attention to the book.

_It won't be published for a year or two, so don't show it to anybody. But I thought you should see it. I hope it helps you realise how much you were loved._

Alfred turned to the first page. The title was written out as 'Juan Machado and George Jones – The Life Works.' The publication date was from Arthur's time. He was about to turn the page when he noticed a bookmark inbetween a couple of pages.

It was a large photo of a man with two young boys. One of them had a cowlick he got from his father while the other had wavy hair. All three of them were smiling. Beside the photo was a block of text with the sub heading;

_The Jones Family_

As Alfred read on, tears began to fall and land on the pages.


	11. Chapter 11

"_**But a week must pass; only a week, in Anne's reckoning, and then, she supposed, they must meet; and soon she began to wish that she could feel secure even for a week."**_

* * *

Alfred was perched on the back ledge of the lake house. His feet dangled just over the surface of the water. Upon his lap was a sketch pad but the pages were blank. Charcoal was held in his hand while he tried to reach one of the biggest decisions he will ever make before moving charcoal to the paper.

* * *

Arthur rolled onto his back. Al immediately took that as an invite and dropped himself down onto his master's stomach, making Arthur groaned and shove the heavy cat down onto his thighs instead. "Bloody cat," he grumbled. "Can't you see I'm trying to read?"

Al just rolled onto his back like Arthur and tilted his head back enough to see Arthur raise the letter to the light.

Written upon it were the words he had been longing to hear without realising it;

_I want to meet you. For real this time._

* * *

_How?_

* * *

_Pick a place. I'll be there. I promise. Tomorrow, what do you say?_

* * *

_Alfred. It's not tomorrow for you. You'll have to wait two years._

* * *

_I don't care. I'll wait. Go to the restaurant tomorrow and I'll be there. I'll be two years older but I'll be there._

* * *

_What will you do all that time?_

* * *

_Think of you. And work out every day, get in shape, pray I don't lose my hair..._

* * *

_Are you sure?_

* * *

_I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I've lost so much time already. I don't want to lose any more with you._

* * *

_See you in two years, then._

* * *

_See you tomorrow night. Where would you like to go?_

* * *

As if like magic, the spring in Alfred's step returned along with the goofy grin that refused to leave his face. Arthur said yes. They were going to meet up – probably this time. It was two years but he could wait that long! He could! Just for Arthur he will. He'll work out, and fix up a place for them both to live, and –

He was jumping ahead too far but he couldn't help it. Alfred was giddy and everyone who walked past him could see that. It was a yes! A yes! Maybe he should buy a ring and get hitched too! That would be a surprise for Arthur and how could he turn him down after two years? Al would live with them both and maybe they'll get a second cat to keep him company.

Ah, he was getting ahead again!

Alfred opened the door to the 'IL MARE' restaurant and stepped inside. He felt out of place instantly. There were diners dressed in their Sunday best while Alfred's jeans had paint stains of them. He would have to remember to get a suit in those two years.

The hostess looked up from the reservation book and smiled in the typical greeting way. "I'm sorry, but we just received our fourth star and I'm afraid a reservation at this time will be extremely difficult. When were you hoping to dine with us?"

"Two years from tomorrow. September 15th, 2006." Alfred grinned.

The hostess paused, giving Alfred a look of surprise. Seconds went by until she realised that he was not joking around and was being serious. "We should... be able to accommodate you, sir."

* * *

Arthur hanged up the brand new suit from his wardrobe door and brushed his hand against a sleeve for the fifth time to ensure it was completely clean of dust. This day would have to be perfect. Nothing can go wrong. He had the suit. He had the time. Maybe he should trim his eyebrows a bit and do something with his hair?

No, no, no. He wasn't going to fuss over this. Arthur had to pull it cool and take it easy. It was one little date. He had been on a date before. This was no different – who was he kidding? This date was going to change everything. He didn't want to mess it up!

What would they talk about? Arthur didn't have much of a personal life outside Alfred's letters. Maybe he should smuggle in Al to lighten the tension? No, no. That would be bad news if Al escaped.

He took a deep breath and held his hand on his stomach that was feeling queasy. One small step at a time, he told himself. He had to go to work. That will distract him. Then he can worry when getting dressed. Yes, work first then worry later. Good plan.

* * *

Arthur resisted the urge to run along the corridor. Since he didn't want to waste time, he ended up doing an awkward jog to the locker room. In five minutes, he'll be gone. Then he will just have to get the train, pray it came on time, and walk to his flat. Then he'll have time to wash, dress, and maybe do something with his hair before leaving.

So much to do in such little time! Maybe he should have asked for a later time. No, he would still be worked up – he'll just have more to get worked up in.

"Kirkland!"

Arthur groaned and skidded to a halt. He turned around to see Ludwig jogging after him. He expected to get told off for running but Ludwig paid no attention to that.

"We never got the daily bloods from the floor."

"What? But the interns were supposed to –"

"They screw up." Ludwig grumbled. "If we take half we can get it done pretty fast."

Shit. "Right," he muttered. He would have to be quick though so he didn't miss his train!

* * *

"Come on! Come on! Damn it!" Arthur checked his watch again but only 10 seconds had passed since the last time he looked. He stamped his foot down on the platform and looked down the railways for any sign of the train.

He didn't have time for this! He needed to get home now to keep to schedule! He couldn't be late! He just couldn't!

* * *

Arthur's door bounced against the wall with enough force to close itself. The Briton didn't notice. He paid no attention. He couldn't even see it because he was too busy tugging his uniform over his head. Blinded, he crashed into a small table and swore loudly when his big toe caught on the leg.

Al backed away to avoid being stepped on as he watched his master – dance? – tumble? – move around the hallway and fall back into his bedroom.

"Shit, shit, fuck, bollocks!" he cursed endlessly, tugging off his trousers. If he was quick, he could get a 3 minute shower and then get changed. He would have to miss out on doing his hair. "He's waited two years. What's another half an hour, right?" he muttered.

* * *

The 'IL MARE' restaurant was only a few feet in front of him yet whenever Arthur went to approach the door; he would turn and walk across to the ice rink instead. Nerves were getting the better of him.

What if Alfred changed in those two years? Would he still look the same? What if he didn't have the same interest in Arthur as before? What if he decided to come purely to break up? What if Arthur did something stupid and completely humiliated himself in front of Alfred? What if –

His hands gripped onto his coat and he took several deep breathes. Alfred would be sitting in there now this very minute. What if he was thinking the same things? Maybe he was worried Arthur wouldn't turn up? He could be getting ready to leave this very second and –

He was such a mess!

"Come on, Arthur," he whispered. "It's a date. One little date. You'll have fun. You'll laugh and joke and talk about all that has happened. Maybe then you'll make plans to meet again or... or maybe you'll offer to take him to yours and..."

He dropped to his knees and held his face in his hands. He was not ready! He thought he could do this! This was nothing short of torture!

But Alfred had waited two years. Two years just to meet Arthur. Arthur couldn't let him down. He just couldn't. It wouldn't be fair and how was he going to explain himself to Alfred in the past if he messed this up? 'Oh I'm sorry but I was too scared to go and see you so I stood you up'. No. That wouldn't happen. He'll do this!

He stood back up and took a few more deep breaths then walked over to the door. His hand was shaking when he reached out and yanked the handle towards him.

Immediately, he tried to locate Alfred but there were too many people and pillars in the way. The queue in front of him moved and he walked over to the hostess.

"May I help you?"

"Yes," Arthur said, breathlessly. "I have a reservation. Kirkland? Or Jones, I'm not sure which name it's under."

The woman examined her book. She looked from the page to Arthur then back to the page then to Arthur again. "Oh! You're the-" she stopped herself and then smiled brightly. "Follow me."

Arthur was surprised to find the table was empty. Alfred wasn't there. Maybe Alfred was running late too?

"I hope you'll forgive me, but I can't help asking..."

"Yes?" Arthur removed his coat and placed it on the back of his hair before settling down. He straightened his tie and tried to clean off the dirt on his trousers from when he was on the ground. Everything had to be perfect.

The hostess eagerly responded, "This reservation is sort of... legendary. It's been here longer than-most of the staff. There's always been intense speculation about who made it, and why, and if you'd actually show up. Some of the crew even have bets going..."

Arthur blinked and looked around. All across the room, waiters were sneaking glances at him. Chefs were peering out from behind the kitchen door. He suddenly felt self-conscious. His cheeks were burning red.

The hostess must have noticed for she quickly apologised. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - I'll send the waiter for your drink order right away."

"Thanks..." Arthur unfolded his napkin and placed it onto his lap. His hands rested on the edge of the table, trying to resist the urge to fidget. The waiter came over and Arthur didn't even notice until a glass of champagne was placed in front of him.

"Complimentary," he said in the corner of his mouth. "And good luck!"

"Thank you..." Arthur said weakly, taking the champagne.

* * *

Arthur's glass was empty. He refused another refill and could see the staff watching him and whispering to one another. The hostess shooed them away but he could still feel their staring boring into him.

Where was Alfred...?

* * *

Diners were lingering over dessert and chatting intimately across candlelit tables. The night was pulling in and couples were coming and leaving until only a small handful remained in the restaurant.

The empty glass was still sitting in front of him along with a couple of others. He didn't want them to be cleared away. It covered up the empty view in front of him. The suds had all dripped down to the bottom of the glasses. He watched them expressionless but it soon came too much to bear.

Alfred pushed back his chair and stood up. Everyone was watching him gravely, not in bothering to cover up their stares. Arthur didn't care. He pulled on his coat and left without a single word.

* * *

_You weren't there._

* * *

Alfred stood at the mailbox and read over the words Arthur had left behind. "Fuck..." he said loudly. "Dude, I'm sorry!" How could he have missed such an important date? Maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he was caught up in a project. Maybe he forgot to write it down. He must have had a good reason not to be there but couldn't think of any on top of his head.

He scribbled down a reply and stuck it back into the mailbox.

* * *

_I don't get it. Something must have happened. Look I've got two years. I'll try to fix it. Give me a second chance. I won't screw up. I promise._

* * *

Al snuggled up against Arthur. His master hadn't left the bedroom since arriving back from the lake house. He didn't even greet Al and didn't say a single word all day. He just curled up in bed silently and Al was trying his best to cheer him up.

"Stupid how much it hurts..." Arthur whispered, making Al's ears twitch. "I didn't realise how hard I had fallen." Al nuzzled his face against Arthur's cheek. "... maybe he does deserve a second chance."

* * *

_Meet me tonight at my place. Just come. I don't care about anything else. Just be there. Please._

* * *

Arthur curled up on his sofa. The T.V. was off so there was no sounds to drown out the possibility of having someone knock on the door. Al was curled up in front of him, giving no choice this time as Arthur was using him like a living teddy bear. Al didn't mind. He liked licking Arthur's face without being pushed away.

He didn't dress up this time. In fact, he was in his pyjamas. His fingers ran through Al's thick fur again and again and again. Having the cat's warmth against him was comforting.

The clock on the wall ticked by on and on.

And on. And on.

And on.

Al looked over to the clock. Though he could not tell, it was gone midnight. He looked down at Arthur's sleeping face. The cat's ears flattened against his head and he rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes.

* * *

_I'm sorry, Alfred. It's too late. It already happened. I'm not upset. Well, I was at first. But now I just feel stupid - for forgetting how much a person's life can change in two years. And for expecting yours not to change. For expecting you to wait - to run in place, to put your life on hold, for me._

* * *

_But I can do it. I can wait for you. I know I can. I wouldn't just forget..._

* * *

_Maybe you did. Maybe wherever you are 'now,' you're busy, and happy, and living so fully in the present that the dinner date you made two years ago just... slipped your mind. The way we forget impossible fantasies when we outgrow them, when we get on with our real lives._

* * *

Alfred brooded over the letter. There was no way Arthur was being serious. Or was he...? Alfred was so sure that he could wait two years but if his future self never turned up then maybe...

* * *

_Are you saying I should get on with my life?_

* * *

Arthur helped wheel a patient to the waiting lounge. She thanked him then wheeled herself over to her husband and daughter who hugged her tightly with tears in their eyes. Arthur watched them with a sad smile.

* * *

_I'm saying... I think we both should._

* * *

"No, no, no!" Alfred whimpered, scribbling out his reply. "Damn it, Arthur. Don't do this! We can try again! I don't care how many times it takes. I will get to you! We'll be together! I promised!" He slammed his letter into the box and bit his bottom lip. "Don't give up on me..."

* * *

_PLEASE WRITE BACK._

* * *

Alfred returned to the mailbox every day. The flag never moved and his letter remained inside. But it wasn't alone. Letter after letter was left behind with it. They kept piling up, never taken out, never read, and never answered.


	12. Chapter 12

**_"Thus much indeed he was obliged to acknowledge - that he had been constant unconsciously, nay unintentionally; that he had meant to forget her, and believed it to be done. He had imagined himself indifferent, when he had only been angry; and he had been unjust to her merits, because he had been a sufferer from them."_**

* * *

Autumn came and went. Winter approached and snowed down hard. In the middle of the 'Cove' bar, doctors were talking, laughing, and drinking in a booth together. Arthur was amongst them though he spent most of his time staring at the bottle in his hand and only listening to their conversations.

He didn't stay for long. He called himself a taxi and headed home before 11. He knew this wouldn't be easy – to forget and move on – but he didn't expect it to hurt this much either. He needed to start over. A fresh start.

Arthur leant back in the taxi seat. To distract his mind, he flicked through his wallet to count his cash, hoping he had enough to pay the driver without needing to go to his flat first. He took out a few dollars when something slipped out and landed on his lap.

His brother's card with his number printed on it.

He picked it up and stared at it briefly. Just how desperate was he?

* * *

Arthur waited outside the pizza place where they had eaten previously. He doubted his brother would show up after the last time they met but... he didn't have anyone else now Alfred was out of the picture.

But Scot turned up, wrapped up in a thick coat. They both stared for a second before Arthur rested his forehead onto his brother's shoulder and cried. Scot raised an arm and patted his back soothingly.

* * *

They didn't eat. Neither felt hungry so they walked along the streets and went wherever their feet took them. It took a while to start a conversation but the silence was comfortable. The snow was still falling around them. Arthur looked over at his brother in the corner of his eye.

"I'm thinking of going back home. But... not yet. It's too soon. I want to see how well we can get along now before returning to England."

Scot removed the cigarette from his mouth. "What do you have planned?"

Arthur bit his lip. He had to remind himself that this was something that needed to be done. He couldn't bear those lonely days inside his flat where it was only he and Al. He loved Al but lately the cat had just been on painful remembrance of happier times.

"I... Where are you living? I know you're only here temporary. Maybe you could move in to my flat until you get your visa changed. Then, afterwards, we'll find a bigger place and see how it turns out. We can at least try. You know, for mum's sake."

"For mum's sake, we can try. But why this so suddenly?" Scot came to a halt just short of the flats were Arthur lived.

"People change. At some point... we have to grow up and move on with our lives, right?" Arthur shrugged weakly. He looked to the side and saw the tree outside the flat looking as grand and wondrous as the day Alfred planted it for him. "... We can't linger in the past. It's not healthy."

* * *

The snow was brushed off the top of the mailbox. It was so cold that he had to wear the thickest pair of gloves he could. Alfred opened the mailbox out of habit but his face gave away no emotion when he noticed his letters were still sitting inside.

* * *

Françoise's red cowboy boots crunched through the snow on her way to the trailer. News travelled fast around the construction site but she had to hear it from the horse's mouth first before she accepted it. It was so sudden and unexpected that it made no sense to her. Yet when she opened the trailer door, she had no choice but to believe.

Alfred had a cardboard box on the floor. It was filled with everything that had once been in his desk. He dropped in the remaining two items and noticed her staring at him. There was a brief silence until he cut it with an almost robotic tone. "We're on schedule. We're ahead even. The crew know the job backwards. It would take a major earthquake for you not to finish on time and you're not going to have a major earthquake."

"How do you know that?" she asked softly.

"I know." He picked up his box and tucked it under his arm after ensure the bottom wouldn't split open and drop everything inside. "I've got to go."

She didn't move from the door. "Is it the job? Or me?"

"Neither. I'm sorry, Fran."

Françoise pouted. Just when she was getting over the shock of discovering his interest, which would explain why he never chased her like the rest of the men on this project, he had to get weird and leave. She liked having him around. He was fun. Or he had been. "I don't get it." She sighed. "Why now? What happened?"

Alfred shrugged weakly. "It's just time. Got to move on. Go to other places."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. Fran moved into the trailer and sat down at his desk looking disappointed. "I'm sorry, mon chou. I don't know what's going through your mind but I wish you the best of luck. Au Revoir."

Before he could walk out, she got up and gave him one last kiss on his cheek.

* * *

Al sat on the counter, just watching Alfred pack up item after item. The furniture was strapped onto the pick-up truck and everything else was taped inside cardboard boxes. The rubbish was bagged and the surfaces were all swept and mopped till it gleamed. Al was eventually carried off to the truck and left by the front seat. The cat looked miserable, not understanding what was happening.

Alfred saved the letters for last. He took his unanswered ones from the mailbox and found the collection of Arthur's letters. He looked at them for a brief moment right before bundling them up and wrapping string tightly around them. They were placed into a separate box.

He wasn't taking them with him. He carried it up into the attic and left it there. For a second, he was reminded of a fragment from Arthur's very first letter that he never truly understood until now: '_Sorry about the paw prints by the front door. They were there when I moved in. Same with the box in the attic. I think it belongs to the owner_.'

* * *

Alfred stopped his truck outside the house. Al seemed to sense what was happening and cringed back in his seat but Alfred picked him up into his arms and went over to the front door. He knocked upon it and it opened a few seconds to reveal a less than happy Scot glaring darkly at him.

"Still want to rent a lake house?" he asked, not bothered by the glare he expected to receive. He took a set of keys out of his pocket and them out. "It's what Arthur wants."

"How the hell do you know?" Scot didn't take the keys. "And what nerve you got to suddenly-"

"Trust me," Alfred cut across impatiently. "And here. As an apology, I brought him a cat. His name is Al. He'll love him."

Scot took the keys reluctantly. Alfred placed Al down on the doorstep. Al whined and nuzzled against his master's hand as Alfred stroked him. "You take good care of him, right little buddy? He'll be needing you. Can you do that for me?"

The cat gazed at him and then licked his hand. Alfred smiled faintly and stood up. Al walked on after him as Alfred climbed back into his trunk. The Maine Coon watched with drooped ears and tail as his American master vanished down the road.

* * *

Alfred stopped outside Matthew's Chicago flat after making his last final stop. His brother was already standing outside, waiting to assist him with his belongings.

* * *

Arthur carried a box through to the bedroom. It was beginning to look how it did when he first moved in but fortunately, Scot had a lot less luggage than he did.

* * *

Months came and went.

Arthur's work continued as expected. His home life was busier than before now he had company staying with him. He had made room in his wardrobe for his brother's belongings and assisted him in getting a new visa so he could stay as long as Arthur needed him to. In the mist of putting away the summer clothing, he came upon the suit he had worn when he went to the restaurant. He stared at it for a split second and then shoved it into the back of the wardrobe.

* * *

Matthew was wearing the graduation robes. Alfred made sure to get a front row seat and was the first one to congratulate him. His success gave Alfred the confidence to return to schooling himself and soon he was a student in his former architecture class. No longer the trouble maker, he sat at the back of the class and took several notes.

* * *

"The year has gone so quickly!" One of the doctors cheered loudly as they watched the new year's countdown on the T.V. The bar was already alive and it was difficult to hear anyone without rising their voices louder than their surroundings. Arthur and Kiku had found the crowd uncomfortable and settled for a quiet spot in the corner.

"I can't believe you're getting married. It seems like only a day ago you met her." Arthur smiled faintly, stirring his drink around in his glass. "I look forward to how different your wedding will be from the typical we have here."

Kiku smiled and the two were suddenly interrupted from their conversation when the entire bar erupted into the countdown.

"3"

"2"

"1"

* * *

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

"GOD BLESS 2006!"

All the couples kissed. Friends hugged each other and several drinks were spilt at the student party. All eyes were fixed onto the T.V. or each other. Except one. Alfred stood to the side, alone, where he stared out of the window and watched the fireworks go off in the distance. Wrapped around his neck was a red woollen scarf.

* * *

Alfred arrived home in Matthew's flat, tired from another long day of school. He wanted to slump down onto the sofa and go to sleep but was surprised to see his brother already taking up the space. He was still wearing his coat and tie too. Some pancakes were left half eaten on the floor beside him. He sat down on the arm and playfully placed his feet up on Matthews's legs. "How'd it go today?"

Matthew looked miserably at his older brother. "No one's hiring. Or, at least, no one's hiring me."

"You have to give it time, dude."

"I have."

Alfred nudged Matthew with his foot. "Hey. As soon as I graduate we can start the firm. Remember? Visionary Vanguards? We'll be an unstoppable team. Just you and I together. Then when we get big, we'll hire losers like us."

Matthew smiled faintly and nodded.

* * *

Scot and Arthur peered around the house. It was old but solid built. It was also in seriously need of renovation. Their footsteps echoed whenever their walked and their breaths were floating in front of them.

"What do you think?" Arthur suggested. "It's got a good view and it's closer to work. Al will love having the extra room to run around in."

"This is what I gave up lunch for?" Scot grumbled.

"I know it needs work-"

"It needs a hell of a lot of work."

"I found an architect who specializes in renovations," Arthur reasoned. "I made an appointment for tomorrow. We can't stay in my flat. Besides, the sofa isn't good for your back. It's been months and I want to keep moving forward."

Scot gave another look around the vast empty house and nodded.

* * *

Matthew woke some point early morning. When he turned over, he saw it was reading 1 in the morning. He rubbed his eyes and wondered what woke him when he heard the scratching sound from the bedroom next to his. What was Alfred doing awake at this time? The TV wasn't on so he couldn't have been watching a movie marathon. And he never stayed focused on his school work for that long.

He climbed out of bed and wrapped a dressing gown over his pyjamas before walking out and peered through Alfred's open doorway. His brother was definitely awake and bent over his drawing board. Matthew knew that gleam in his eye. It was something that wasn't going to be put aside until he finished it. Matt sighed and stepped inside.

"All-nighter?"

Alfred looked up, self-consciously moving his arm over his work. "No... This is.. just my own thing."

Matthew walked over to the desk and smiled. "Let me see."

"It's nothing," Alfred protested.

"Please?"

Alfred hesitated and then moved back to allow Matthew to look. It was a sketch of the lake house with changes made here and there; a deck ran along the back, stairs curved down into the water, and trees were planted along the jetty with lights glowing from them. It looked just as striking as before but less stark and much warmer. Almost romantic, Matthew thought.

"I like it," he said softly.

"You... do?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't think you'd approve."

Matthew shook his head to protest. "The old house is a place you go to be alone. This one, you bring somebody to." He noticed Alfred's small nod and the way his eyes darted back over to his drawing. Maybe it was his French blood, but he knew what was happening. "Alfred... Who is he?" he asked quietly.

"... Arthur," Alfred said in a similar soft tone. "His name was Arthur."

"When you were living there?"

Alfred nodded.

Matthew sighed and took hold of his brother's shoulder. To have loved and lost was not an experience he had been through. He never thought Alfred would go through it so early on. A while back, he was the life and soul of the party. What ever happened, it was not pleasant. Dare he ask? Yes. Alfred needed someone to talk to. "What happened?"

Alfred raised a hand to cover the side of his face. Tears were already building in his eyes. "I lost him." He sniffed and pushed back against the desk to avoid smudging his drawing. "It's hard to explain. Mostly it was... bad timing."

Matthew found a box of tissues and handed one to Alfred who refused and simply held his sleeve over his eyes instead, making his glasses go wonky. "Do you miss him?"

His brother nodded. A lump had formed in his throat, making it difficult talk without becoming choked up.

"Then get him back," Matthew tried to reason. "You can find him and -"

"It's too late. Or too early.." Alfred's voice was cracking and Matthew dropped down to his knees to be at better eye level. He rubbed Alfred's arm in attempt to calm him down. "I don't know where he is. Even if I did, I can't just walk up to him and say, 'Hey, here I am, let's pick up where we left off.'"

"What have you got to lose?" Matthew whispered. "Try. At least, try. You have nothing to lose."

* * *

Arthur flicked through channel after channel on the TV. There was never anything worth watching. He thought about putting on a film when he heard his brother calling from the kitchen.

"Turn that down a little!"

Annoyed, Arthur turned off the TV and tossed the remote to the side. It had been a difficult night at the hospital and he had only been home for an hour. Dinner was crap and Al wasn't helping when he found him tearing the curtains in attempt to climb up them. Frustrated, Arthur stood up. He might as well get some sleep and maybe he'll feel better.

Yet the moment he stepped into his bedroom, his temper was triggered by the annoying floorboard creaking under his foot. Enough was enough, he was sick to death of hearing that night after night. He stamped his foot down and almost right through the ground with a yell of surprise. The floorboard broke underneath him and Arthur's foot went through to the space underneath it.

Thankfully, he didn't hurt himself. He removed his foot and knelt by the hole in the ground. Wonderful. Now he was going to forget about that and in the morning he'll fall right into it and twist his ankle.

He reached inside to take the broken floorboard, only for his fingers to touch a material that was definitely not wood. He pulled back and checked his fingers. The tips were coated in dust. Something was hiding in there. He reached in again and ran his fingers along the mysterious item until he could find a spot to hold onto and bring it on.

It was a package wrapped tightly in a very dusty plastic. Intrigued, he unwrapped it only to drop the item the second it came out of its wrappings.

It was his book. It was his copy of Persuasion that he lost at the station all those years ago. His heart was beating heavily again and his breathing was shallow. Alfred said he would return it but...

His hand was shaking when he picked it up. It didn't close completely. A gap was formed in-between two pages. He slowly turned the pages over until he saw what was causing it. A rose was resting on a page. It was dried up and withered by time. He didn't dare touch it in fear it would fall apart in his hand. But underneath the flower, highlighted in red, was a phrase underlined.

The rose was slowly brought to the side so he could read it out loud in a slow and shaky voice. "There could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison no countenances so beloved. N-Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement."

The book slipped from his hands. The rose fell onto the ground beside it. Arthur's hands were held against his face as the tears began to flow.


	13. Chapter 13

**_"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own, than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant."_**

* * *

Neither of the two brothers looked that amused when they stepped into the office building. It was poorly decorated with large love hearts with a few helium balloons tied to office chairs. One of them had already broken free and floated to the ceiling where it was completely ignored by everyone there. It was bland overall which was ironic for what company it was.

"They're new," Arthur muttered under his brother's stare. "I don't think they had time to decorate how they would have liked."

"It's shit." Scot didn't care how old it was. It felt like a stiff place with no room to breath and relax. It was definitely not Scot's kind of place but Arthur was keen to get started on their new house and agreed to do most of the workload.

"I'll admit, we have better decorations at the hospital but at least they would be allowed to bring alcohol in. The only booze we get is the one we have to work with. Don't want to be drinking that afterwards."

Scot grunted in response. Their conversation came to an end with the receptionist approached them with a perky smile. "Dr Kirkland? They're ready for you. If you can follow me to the conference room."

* * *

Alfred had fun laughing at the sight of his brother wearing a suit. Matthew had gone red and mumbled about looking presentable for his job interview which instantly made Alfred shut up. It wouldn't be long until Alfred graduated and then they could start their business together. Until then Alfred had to endure the guilt of not doing this sooner.

They stepped outside wearing their winter coats and instantly began to unbutton and remove the extra thick layers. For a February, it was incredibly warm. The coats were slung over their shoulders before they started talking along the street.

"What the fuck is this?" Alfred groaned loudly, not wanting to walk in such humid weather. "I'm gonna melt! In a Winter season! What gives?"

"I heard they say it's global warming," Matthew explained but his voice wasn't heard over Alfred's constant complaining.

* * *

Scot slouched down in his chair in the conference room. Arthur did his best to ignore his brother's behaviour and kicked him in the shin to make him sit up just as the door opened and one of the architects entered. Thankfully, he didn't appear to notice the kick and only smiled at them.

"Hi there, Dr Kirkland," he said politely, tucking a loose strand of his wavy blond hair behind his ear. "I'm Matthew Williams. Sorry to keep you waiting. Welcome to Vanderbeck and Associates."

He placed a file down on the table and sat down opposite them then took out the sketches and designs and talked them through it step by step. Arthur nodded to most comments made and added in his own thoughts here and there while Scot remained slouched and annoyed until he couldn't take it any longer and pushed himself forward. He picked up one of the pieces and raised his eyebrows.

"It's kind of out there, isn't it? It's gonna look weird as hell." He tossed the sheet back down on the table.

"This is the direction Arthur said he was looking for," Matthew attempted to explain. "He was definite with his ideas."

"I love it," Arthur said flatly, ignoring any glances from his brother. "I think it's great and since it's my money that's paying for it - I'm having it my way." He smiled innocently at Scot. "Seems fair doesn't it?" he asked, getting no response from the older one other than having two fingers raised in his direction. "Perfect. I knew you'll see it my way."

* * *

Alfred's rants didn't stop until they stopped by a set of traffic lights. Alfred knew that class was going to be long and dull with this heat so would need a major pick me up afterwards. He grinned at his silent brother. "You want to grab a beer after your interview?"

Matthew shook his head. "Can't. I, er, have a date." His cheeks flushed pink and he braced himself for Alfred's teasing but none came. Instead, Alfred froze on the spot. The green man was flashing and people were walking past but he did not move from his spot. He stared over at the people who were enjoying the sunshine and then back at Matthew with a strange look on his face.

"What day is it?"

"Valentine's Day," Matthew said slowly as he wondered what was going through Alfred's mind. "It's February 14th. Why?"

"February 14th... 2006," Alfred whispered.

"Yes... Alfred, what's the matter with you?" Matthew couldn't understand what caused the sudden change in his brother.

Alfred stepped back, away from the edge of the road. He walked back into a person but didn't not apologise. He stopped when his back reached a wall and ran his fingers through his hair. "He told me about today."

"Who?" Matthew began before realising the answer for himself. "You mean Arthur?"

"Yes!" There was excitement in Alfred's tone. His eyes were sparkling and a smile was forming. "There's a letter that says where he's gonna be. Mattie, don't you see?! I can see him today! You said it last night - what have I got to lose? Nothing! Mattie, this could be my big chance!"

He wasn't sure how it all fit together but it was the first time he saw his brother this excited in a long time so Matthew smiled and clapped him on the back. "What are you waiting for then?"

"I... I have to find the letter!" Alfred pushed himself back up and sprinted through the crowds.

* * *

Matthew shook hands with Arthur. "We'll draw up some preliminary blueprints and go from there. I'll just send someone to make a copy of the plans so you can call me back if you notice anything we've forgotten to discuss."

"Great," Arthur said with a smile, moving to collect his coat. "See, Scot, that wasn't so bad," he teased while Matthew headed out to find someone to photocopy the papers. "You never did like change but you can decorate it up however you like."

Scot snorted and stood up. He turned to look at the wall where a series of framed pictures were upon the wall. It was mostly of houses which did not amuse Scot at all. "He better not take long. You got Al in the car. Remember?"

"He'll be fine for a while. He loves jumping around the back seat and I left him food and water." Arthur sighed. "My biggest concern is that he clawed the seats."

* * *

Alfred's room was a complete mess. Everything had been thrown onto the floor; clothing from the drawers, games from the shelves, and the half eaten food that was creating life under his bed. He stumbled and tripped his way over to his drawing board, swearing with his pinkie toe hit into a large figurine of a superhero. Pencils went flying across the room along with sheets of paper. He was just about to get really frustrated when he noticed his drawing of the lake house. Of course! That's where he had the letters placed!

He dashed out of the door, not bothering to put on his coat.

* * *

"There." Matthew handed the papers over which were neatly placed in a folder for them. "We'll be in contact."

"Perfect." Arthur placed it under his arm and turned to face his brother. "Scot, we're -"

All colour was drained out of his face. His eyes were fixated on a drawing right next to Scot. Not noticing the curious glances, he slowly moved across the room and paused right in front of it. It was of the lake house. Only, it was different in many places. It looked like someone had placed a lot of tender love and care into it. Everything was just beautiful.

And his heart never ached more over a beautiful design.

"Who did this?" Arthur asked, his fingers grazing over the surface.

Matthew walked beside him and stared down at his feet. "My brother. It was his pride and joy."

"Is his name... Alfred?" The name still tasted so sweet upon his lips. He caught sight of Matthew's nod in the corner of his eye. Alfred had done this? It was amazing... He pulled his fingers away. "Do you... do you know how I could get in touch with him?"

The architect looked like someone had punched him in the gut. He held his arms around his stomach and rested back against the table, moving back and forth in a gentle rhythm. "I'm sorry to tell you this but... he died. Two years ago."

No. _No!_ It couldn't... Alfred was...? B-but.. No. It just... Arthur blinked back the tears. Was it his fault? Was it because he pushed him away? Why didn't Alfred... He was always so strong.

"Two years ago today, actually," Matthew said in realisation. "On this very day. There was an accident..." he drifted off and gazed off away.

So it wasn't Arthur's fault. It was just a freak accident that ... accident? Arthur took in a deep breath and turned around sharply. "Where?"

* * *

The files slipped out and scattered across the tiled floor. He did not pause to pick them up and left the task to his bewildered brother who chased after him. Arthur didn't stop running until he reached his car parked on the street. His hands were shaking badly when he took out his keys. It took at least three attempts to get the key into the lock and unlock his car.

Al was quick to wiggle his way from the back seat to the front onto to get stuck in the gap. He meowed loudly but Arthur paid him no attention. He just tried to get the car to start.

Scot tapped on the window, having finally caught up. "Oi. What's happening?"

"Emergency," Arthur said breathlessly, tugging his seatbelt over his shoulder and finally freeing Al from the gap by pushing him back into the seats behind. "I have to go. I'm sorry. I can't explain!" Before his brother could ask any more questions, the car moved in the road lane and drove off at a speed that was definitely over the limit.

* * *

Alfred drove out of Chicago. His foot kept tapping the acceleration. Every second that went by caused his excitement to rise. This was it. This was his big chance and no one could stop him!

* * *

Tears were making his vision blurry but he did not let them fall and he did not slow down. Arthur was driving like he had never done so before. He weaved in and out of lanes, passing cars, and pushing the speed as far as he dared too. His eyes darted from the road to his watch, counting down to lunch time. Al was curled up in the leg space, not liking being tossed about by the sharp turns.

* * *

Alfred pulled up outside the lake house. He left the truck running and ran across the jetty. The keys were still on his keyring and he unlocked the front door.

* * *

Arthur skidded to a halt by the lake house - directly in front of the mailbox. He pulled out a pad and pen from the glove department and desperately began to write.

* * *

The attic door was thrown up. The box inside was tore open with the bundle of letters falling across the floor. Alfred knelt down and rummaged through them, ripping the string apart and tossing the needless letters aside in favour for just one. Several minutes into his searching, and he tugged out a sheet of paper with neat tidy writing that could not possibly be his:

_Last February - I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really warm - I was at Buckingham Fountain._

"Buckingham Fountain," Alfred whispered before tucking the letter into his back pocket. Thank god, he knew where that was.

* * *

He almost fell out of the car. He opened the mailbox and shoved his letter inside before raising the flag. Arthur stood, his arms held tight around him. "Please... Please...!"

* * *

Alfred jumped into his truck and pulled away quickly from the lake house. He finally had a place. If only he could get there in time. He'll wait there all day if he had to! Just to see Arthur again. Just to be given a second chance.

In the rear-view mirror, the mailbox's red flag was held up.

* * *

He could see the fountain from inside his truck. All Alfred needed to do was to find a parking space and then he could get to the park. It only took a minute or two of searching but he got a place with the fountain still in his sights. He climbed out of the truck and began to jog in its direction.

* * *

_Dear Alfred. I know now why you didn't meet me - it was you at the Fountain that day. It was you. Please don't go. Something terrible happens if you do._

* * *

Alfred stopped when he reached the road. There were two lanes of heavy traffic in front of him. He paced along the path, trying to catch a glimpse of Arthur in-between the crowds, cars, trucks, and buses.

* * *

_Please don't look for me._

* * *

His breath was taken away when he clamped eyes onto a distant figure wearing a white coat. He could just make out the blond hair. It had to be him. It was him for sure! Alfred grinned broadly.

* * *

_Don't try to find me._

* * *

This was it. They were no longer separated by time. Only distance stood between them now. All he had to do was introduce himself.

* * *

_Don't run to me._

* * *

A break in the traffic gave Alfred a clear view of Arthur resting by the fountain. Just walk over and say hi... it's all he had to do.

* * *

_Do you understand? Please. You have to wait._

* * *

Alfred stepped off the curb, not noticing the bus turning around the corner and heading right for him.

* * *

_Forget everything I said before. We both have to wait._

* * *

The bus driver noticed Alfred stepping in front and slammed his foot onto the brake.

* * *

_I love you. I do. It has taken me all this time to say it but I do love you. And if you love me, wait for me._

* * *

On-lookers looked around as a high pitch grinding sound caught their attention.

* * *

_Wait with me. Wait until time catches up with both of us and we can be together. Please. Just... Wait._

* * *

The bus was bearing down fast on Alfred who was still focusing straight ahead at Arthur.

* * *

_Wait 2 years. __Come to the lake house. I'm here._

* * *

Arthur fell to his knees and held a hand over his face as he dissolved into tears. The other hand grasped onto the mailbox pole to keep himself from falling down completely. Each time he closed his eyes he caught sight of that bloodied up face giving him one last smile. "I'm sorry!" he cried, his broken sobs echoing across the landscape. "I'm sorry! Please don't leave me... Don't leave me. I can't go on without you... Please... wait... I need you."

His voice trailed off. Al jumped out of the car and wandered over to Arthur. It settled down beside him and nuzzled against Arthur's arm. The tears slowly subsided to quiet sniffs. His cheeks were strained but he could not bring himself to look up. His entire body felt numb. His stomach was twisting around so much, he could swear he was going to be sick.

They had tried to change time before... They failed. It couldn't be done. It just wouldn't be possible... He had blown it.

Al meowed and pushed his head into Arthur's arm over and over again until his master finally looked up. He rested a hand on top of Al's head and then slowly stood up. His legs were feeling weak so he leant against the mailbox to steady himself then -

The flag was down.

It had moved.

Arthur couldn't believe it. Was it a cruel trick or ..? He very slowly reached out and pulled down the door. It took a look of courage for him to peer inside.

His letter was gone.

* * *

The bus was skidding along, getting closer and closer until -

Alfred stepped back onto the curb just as the bus passed him harmlessly. He could feel the breeze when it drove by but paid it no attention. He withdrew the letter from his jean pocket and peered down at it.

_Wait. Just wait._

He peered back up to see Arthur checking his watch. His lunch break must have been over because he turned around and headed back towards downtown.

Never before had Alfred felt so helpless. Every part of him wanted to step off the curb and run after him. To go to him and hold on like never before and refuse to ever release him. But he didn't. He placed the letter back into his pocket. With great difficulty, he turned his back on Arthur and walked away.

* * *

Arthur could not stop staring at the empty mailbox. His face was soaked by tears and he could taste them on his lips. A hand reached out from behind him and close the mailbox door. Arthur held his breath sharply. Two pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist. He could feel a warm breath on his ear as someone whispered;

"Are you going to turn around?"

The tears were returning. His heart was beating with unimaginably joy. He turned around and found himself locked into gaze with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes he had ever seen in his life. Arthur opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

Alfred grinned down and rested his forehead onto Arthur's. "Have we waited long enough?"

He still couldn't reply. Arthur broke into feeble laughter pushed back against Alfred until they fell back onto the ground and then tugged Alfred up into a passionate kiss. Every piece of his emotion was moulded into that kiss; love, hope, and happiness. They held onto each other tightly, fearing that if they ever let go they would lose each other again.

But when the kiss broke, they were still there. They moved for a second kiss only to have a large furry animal jump in-between them. Al couldn't keep still and was running and jumping madly around them. Arthur and Alfred laughed again and moved to stood up. Their hands linked together before turning towards the lake house.

It had transformed. With the life and love saved, its solidarity refinements melted away into a warm and romantic home. Trees were planted along the jetty, lit and glowing. Alfred's drawing had come to life. And together, hand in hand with a cat running in-between their legs, they walked along the jetty and towards the house.

Finally together.

* * *

**Author's Note: A warm thank you to everyone who got this far. Another huge thank you to each one of my reviewers who took a few seconds out of their time to express their thoughts for this story. You have all given me the confidence to return to my original stories where I hope that you will be able to read them with the same love you read this one. Have a good day dear reader x**


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